A Nightingale's Tale - Selene Stormblade Book 3
by Whisper292
Summary: Selene's story continues when she gets sidetracked in Riften on the way to join the Dawnguard. Has she finally met her match in the handsome redhead who picked her pocket, or will the greed and corruption running through the heart of the city be her undoing?
1. A Nightingale's Tale 1: Sidetracked

A Nightingale's Tale 1

Sidetracked

Honorhall Orphanage. It had seemed so much bigger when Selene was a child. That was the way of things. The older she got, the smaller the world became. Old Grelod wouldn't look so big, either. She'd be stooped, her bones brittle with age, palsy sending terrible shivers in her bony hands. Selene wouldn't even have to use a blade. She could probably break the matron's neck with her bare hands.

But no. That was not why she was in Riften. She had made her choice, and she was going to stand by it. At least for the time being, Grelod the Kind would live. The decision had been for her benefit, not Grelod's; the desire for revenge was such a heavy burden to carry around. She wasn't an angry adolescent anymore. She was a grown woman, and a hero at that, although she hated the word. The old witch hadn't ruined Selene's life; she had shaped it, no matter how harshly. She wouldn't be where she was today if not for Grelod.

Thus, she turned her gaze away from the orphanage and walked up the stairs to Mistveil Keep. As Thane of Whiterun and Haafingar, she was supposed to present herself to jarls when she arrived in their city. Even though she only intended to stay the night, it was early, so she decided to pay her respects while she was there. Besides, Ulfric had said good things about The Rift's jarl, and Selene was looking forward to meeting her.

She had left Windhelm with no plan, only a resolution to let the winds guide her. Unfortunately, the winds weren't in the mood to guide her, and she'd wandered for months. Getting over Ulfric had been harder than she'd anticipated, and she had spent most of her time in the western half of Skyrim, as far away from Windhelm as possible while time healed her. She spent time in Markarth and Solitude, offering her services as a sellsword, and she got to know the jarls and their courts. She became friends with Falk Firebeard and Elisif the Fair, who had made her Thane of Haafingar. In addition to mercenary work, she also slipped back into her old ways, depending on larceny to put food on the table when there was no work. In the ten months since she had left Ulfric in Solitude, she had killed more than twenty Forsworn, slain eleven dragons, routed a dozen bandit camps and vampiric covens, and stolen hundreds of Septims worth of goods and coin.

Although she had visited Whiterun, she hadn't stayed long. Farkas hadn't liked the fact that she was with Ulfric, but things between the two of them were as good as always. With Vilkas, the relationship was awkward, strained. Although it didn't make it hurt any less, Selene understood. There would always be tension of some sort between her and Vilkas; they could have had something epic if the timing had been right. But she was beginning to realize the timing would _never_ be right. Vilkas would always be the one that got away. She just hoped they could find a way to be friends again.

Thus, she was on her own. She was bored now, and she was lonely, especially since she had lost Liska. The fox had gone into heat last winter, and she had wandered off one night and hadn't come back for weeks. When Selene did see her again, it was more of a "goodbye" than a return. A male had stood at the edge of the woods watching her warily while Liska had come up to her and cooed. Selene picked her up and snuggled with her for a while, and then the pregnant fox had tottered back to her mate. She hadn't seen her since.

As spring warmed the mountains and the trees started to leaf out, the winds brought the scent of blossoms but still no direction. Seeing Delphine was out of the question at the moment. She had received a letter from Ulfric while she was in Solitude about Delphine and her ties to the Thalmor, recommending that she keep her distance until they could find out more. The Dawnguard was still a possibility, and the more vampires she killed, the more she leaned toward going to The Rift and seeing what the outfit was all about. After decimating a few covens for the Jarl of The Reach late in the summer, she decided to head east to Fort Dawnguard.

She stopped in Riften for the night before beginning the last leg of her trip. She hadn't been back to the city since she had climbed the wall of the orphanage and left out the back gate, but it hadn't changed much. The well still dominated the ring of merchants in the center of town, and the fetid canal still meandered along below. With her enhanced sense of smell, Selene would think the odor would bother her, but for some reason it smelled like home. She guessed it _was_ home in some weird sense.

When she entered the keep, the housecarl, a big, scary-looking Nord with a Mohawk and deep-maroon warpaint, stepped in front of her. "Halt," he said. "If you have business with the jarl, speak with me first."

"Of course. Selene Stormblade, Thane of Whiterun and Haafingar."

"Are you telling me Ulfric didn't make you Thane of Eastmarch?" the jarl called.

The housecarl smiled coldly and stepped aside, and Selene approached the throne. The jarl was around forty, red-haired and full-lipped, and she looked just as bored as most other jarls Selene had met. Her steward, a white-haired Bosmer, sat next to her and nodded amicably at Selene. Others milled around the throne room but didn't give her a passing glance, so she didn't bother with them, either. When she reached the dais where the jarl sat, she gave a slight bow and said, "I haven't seen Jarl Ulfric since we took Solitude."

"No excuse. I'm sure he knows how to find you; he should have done it already. Well met, Selene Stormblade. I am Jarl Laila Law-Giver, and this is my steward, Anuriel."

"Well met, milady. Anuriel."

"What brings you to Riften?"

"I'm just stopping in for the night on my way to Fort Dawnguard."

"We'll arrange a room for you."

"Thank you, but I've already booked a room at the Bee and Barb," she lied.

Selene and Laila hit it off well and chatted for several hours, and by the time Selene left, she was on a first-name basis with the jarl. She asked Selene all sorts of questions about the rebellion and her work for Ulfric, but she was also interested in her campaign against the dragons and how she came to know she was Dragonborn. The big concerns in Laila's city seemed to be poverty and the Thieves Guild, and though she did what she could to help the economy, she didn't believe the Guild was a problem. "Oh, they have their little place down in the sewers, but my advisors tell me there's nothing to worry about. Still, I've put one of my people on it. Maven Black-Briar. Have you met her in your travels?"

"No, I don't think so."

"She owns Black-Briar Meadery and acts as an advisor to me on a regular basis. She has done extensive investigation into the Thieves Guild, and from what she says, they're struggling to keep afloat. The people can worry if they'd like, but I don't see them as much of a threat."

The sun was beginning to set when Selene left the keep and headed across the merchants' circle toward the Bee and Barb, noting the types of items for sale. Jeweler, blacksmith, some other sort of armorer, a cart selling general goods, a food vendor, and a—what was that? He had potions, but he didn't appear to be an alchemist. If he was, his lab must be somewhere else. Ah, well. She'd find out tomorrow morning. For now, she was tired and wanted to get into some comfortable clothes and have some food and a few drinks.

The Bee and Barb was clean, well lit, and roomy, but it was crowded. There were maybe twenty patrons sitting at the tables or the bar or just standing around. She walked toward the bar, but an Argonian met her halfway in. "Welcome to the Bee and Barb, traveler," he said, his tail flicking absently behind him. There was a smile in his voice, but she couldn't see it on his face. Argonians' reptilian features had always been somewhat of an enigma to Selene, so she really didn't know whether he was smiling or not. "Perhaps you'd like to try one of our specialty drinks."

"I'd love to, but later. Right now, I just want a room and some mead."

"I believe we can accommodate you. See Keerava."

She nodded and walked over to the bar, where Keerava, also an Argonian, stood talking to a customer. When Selene sat down, she came over.

"Unless you have coin, keep walking. We don't give handouts."

"Got the coin. Need a room."

"Good. Ten Septims." Selene counted out the coin and slid it across the bar, and Keerava motioned for the male. "Talen-Jei. Set our friend here up in a room."

"Follow me, stranger." She followed him upstairs and into one of the rooms. He paused in the doorway. "Would you like some fresh wash water?"

"Aye, that would be great. Thank you."

Talen-Jei brought Selene some water, and she cleaned up and put on a dress before going back down to the pub for dinner. She sat at a table, and when the Argonian stopped by to take her order she asked for venison stew and Black-Briar. When he told her the price, a hand seemed to come out of nowhere and drop a fistful of coins in his hand.

"It's on me. Bring me some mead as well, will you?"

"Whatever, Brynjolf."

"There's a good lad."

Talen-Jei walked away, and the most beautiful man Selene had ever seen sat down across the table. He was around thirty, maybe a little older, with flaming-red hair and beard, eyes that shone brilliant green even in the dim light of the tavern, and a dazzling smile. It seemed his only flaw was a jagged scar on his left cheek, but it only served to make him more interesting. He had an odd scent, as if he had just walked through the sewer, but it didn't detract from his appeal. His clothing was expensive, as was his showy diamond ring.

"A newcomer to Riften," he trilled in the strangest accent she'd ever heard. It seemed the man was brimming with superlatives. "What brings you to our fair city, lass?"

"I'm passing through on my way to Fort Dawnguard."

He looked her over appreciatively. "You don't look much like a soldier."

Selene grinned at him. "You'd be surprised."

"I'll bet. I'm Brynjolf."

"Selene."

"Lovely name for a lovely lady. Is this your first time here? I could show you the sights if you need a guide."

"Thanks, but I've been here before. I lived at Honorhall for a while as a child."

Brynjolf raised an eyebrow. "Honorhall? Really. I have some friends who are alumni of the orphanage. Coming back for a visit, then?"

She shuddered. "Not remotely. Honestly, I'm just staying the night."

"That's too bad. You certainly brighten the place up. You're the most beautiful woman to pass through this place in years."

Selene laughed. "Oh, sweet Dibella! Does that crap actually work for you?"

Brynjolf laughed along with her. "Of course it works! It's one of my best lines. But in this case, it's true, I assure you."

His scent said he wasn't lying. "In that case, thank you."

Talen-Jei brought their drinks and her food, grunted at Brynjolf and moved away.

"I take it you and he don't get along."

The redhead shrugged. "We've had our differences." He took a sip of his mead, then leaned toward Selene and took her hand. "Perhaps you should consider staying awhile. At least a few days. I'm sure things have changed since you left, so I could still give you that tour."

"Fort Dawnguard isn't far. I'll probably be in town from time to time. Maybe you can give me the tour then."

Disappointment crossed Brynjolf's face, but he nodded his understanding. "If you change your mind, I'll be in the market tomorrow from eight o'clock on."

He placed a gentle kiss between her second and third knuckles, and it was all Selene could do not to melt and run all over the floor. He took his mead, got up and crossed the room, where he stood talking to an angry-looking woman, and he didn't look back at her; but Selene didn't take her eyes off him. The way he stood, the way he spoke, even the way he sipped his mead expressed an almost forced refinement, a mask for the public, but one that he'd worn so long that he could no longer remove it. It had become who he was. The man was smooth personified. He was magnetic, and although the men glowered and grumbled at him, every single one of the women smiled and said hello when they passed him, even if they were with their husbands—probably why the men glowered and grumbled.

The woman who was with him was attractive but unremarkable. She was dark-haired and –eyed, and she wore a sleeveless leather cuirass mostly covered by her arms, which stayed folded across her chest. She maintained a sour expression and even looked angry when she smiled. While she was obviously with Brynjolf, it was just as evident that she was not _with_ him. They were friends, business associates, but not a couple. Selene was glad, because if anything could change her mind about staying in Riften, it might just be the suave redhead.

She finished her dinner and ordered a second mug of mead, but when Talen-Jei asked for payment, she realized her coin purse was gone. The bastard had pickpocketed her! It could have been anybody, of course, but Selene knew it _wasn't_ just anyone; it was Brynjolf. Her first reaction was anger, but when she caught him giving her a sidelong glance, she couldn't help smiling. Okay. He wanted to play; she could play.

"Never mind," she told Talen-Jei. "Thank you." She studied Brynjolf for a moment, looked him over critically, not to admire the view this time but to check for targets, before she made her move. When she was reasonably certain she knew where her money was, she sashayed over and stepped between him and the woman, swiftly reaching into his pocket and pulling out not only _her _coin purse but his as well. "I've been thinking about it," she cooed as the woman grunted and backed away, "and I think a tour would be a great idea."

"Fantastic. You know where to find me, then. I'll see you tomorrow in the marketplace."

Selene gave him a winning smile and turned toward the stairs, giving the woman an apologetic shrug as she passed her. In the room, she secured her coin purse and left his on the table in full view of the door. She had a hunch he would come back for it later. Her room was almost directly above the spot where Brynjolf stood with the woman, whom he called Sapphire, and Selene settled into bed, listening to his trilling voice as he gossiped with his companion. Who talked like that? Who _cared?_ Let him talk.

But Selene also warned herself to be cautious. She knew who she was dealing with now. He was a thief, and the mask that he wore for the public, whether permanent or not, was meant to do exactly what he had done to her: romance her, draw her in with his allure, and distract her long enough to relieve her of her belongings. It had worked perfectly on Selene, who was a practiced thief. She should have known better. Still, she had gotten her money back and taken his while she was at it. Now it was a game.

She chuckled as she drifted off to sleep. Brynjolf was in check, and it was his move. She couldn't wait to see what he'd do to get out.

* * *

When Selene awoke the next morning, she saw she had been right: Brynjolf's coin purse was gone. So was everything else she owned, except for the dress she had been wearing the night before, which was hung on the back of a chair. His scent lingered on the fabric of the dress. "That son of a bitch!" she muttered. "I'm gonna kick his arse all the way to Oblivion and back!"

She washed up and dressed, using the time to find a calm center so she didn't go out to the marketplace raging like an idiot. It was a game, she reminded herself. He had just made a move she hadn't expected. He figured she would go to him when she woke and found her gear missing, and he would probably play innocent. "I've no idea what you're talking about, lass!" Selene could hear him now and see those emerald eyes wide with innocence. He couldn't know she could smell him from a mile away. And oh, he smelled wonderful.

When she was as presentable as she could be without her personal belongings, she made her way through the tavern and out to the merchants' circle, where Brynjolf stood at his stall in the middle of a sales pitch. She watched with amusement as he promised unequaled sexual prowess, centuries-long life, and a host of other ridiculous capabilities that no one in their right mind would believe; yet a woman actually bought one. After she left the stall, Selene wandered over.

"Make love like a sabre cat?" she teased him.

"Hey, it worked, no? Did you see Haelga? She all but asked if I could manufacture it in bulk. She could be my only customer and I'd be set for life."

Selene nodded. "Not a lot going on above the neck?"

"Most of Haelga's thoughts occur below the belt, if you get my meaning. So. How about that tour?"

"How about giving me my stuff back first?"

Brynjolf's eyes widened. "I've no idea—"

"What you're talking about, lass." She leaned on the counter, smiled seductively, and spoke slowly, every word dripping with honey. "You know, Brynjolf, you really should be careful sneaking into a lady's room and pilfering her things. You never know who you might be robbing. She could be a Dark Brotherhood assassin, or a mercenary trained to kill since she was a babe. She could be an envoy for Ulfric Stormcloak himself. Why, she could even be the Dragonborn! And by the Divines, if she could kill a dragon, I doubt she'd have any trouble with you."

Brynjolf looked at her blankly for a moment and then started laughing. "You, lass, are amazing," he chortled. He leaned on the counter so they were practically nose to nose. "Tell you what. I have a little errand, and I need an extra pair of hands. You help me out, and I'll give your things back."

"Oh, you'd give my things back anyway. Believe me." She reached out and scratched the whiskers beneath his chin. "But I'll still help you. What do you need me to do?"

"Behind you, to your left, is Madesi, the Argonian jeweler. To your right is Brand-Shei. _Not_ an Argonian, despite the name. The dark elf was raised by the lizards. Must have had quite a childhood, don't you think? I'm going to create a distraction with my little miracle potion here while you steal Madesi's silver ring from his strong box and plant it on Brand-Shei."

"Why are we doing it?"

"Someone wants Brand-Shei put out of business. That's all you need to know."

"I'm ready when you are."

He started his spiel, calling everyone over to his stall and telling them about the wonders of his Falmer Blood Elixir. Selene melted into the crowd and backed slowly toward Madesi's stand while all eyes were trained on Brynjolf. Taking a quick look around to make sure nobody was watching, she ducked behind the stand and opened the sliding door. The strong box was locked, but it was a simple lock, and with one pick and about ten seconds, she was in and out of the box and the ring was around her index finger. Staying crouched, she crept out from behind the stall and peered around a gap in the low wall surrounding the circle to check for guards, but they were all watching Brynjolf as well. Selene darted across the gap and snuck behind the next stand and over to Brand-Shei's, where he was leaning against a barrel, arguing with Brynjolf.

"Come on, Brynjolf, this is just another of your scams," he groused. "Falmer? You mean the snow elves?"

"The exact same," Brynjolf replied, keeping eye contact with the Dunmer.

"Do you actually expect us to believe..." Selene dropped the ring into Brand-Shei's pocket while he was arguing and backed away before he finished his sentence.

Brynjolf talked for a few more minutes and made another sale before the crowd started to drift away, muttering to themselves and each other about scams. Selene thought about going into the Bee and Barb for a while so as not to arouse suspicion, but seeing that her breakfast money had been stolen, she stopped at Brynjolf's stand instead.

"Looks like I picked the right person for the job."

"Now. My gear?"

He lifted the lid of the barrel next to him, and nestled safely inside were her belongings. Her bow and sword were tucked into a nook behind the stand.

"What's really in that stuff?" she asked as she shouldered her bow.

"It's a healing potion with some deer's blood and honey mixed in," he whispered. "See? It really is beneficial. Still set on joining the Dawnguard, then?"

"Why do you ask?"

"My organization is always on the lookout for new blood, and I think you'd fit right in. There's lots of coin to be made, especially for somebody with your talent."

His "organization." Selene knew what he was talking about, of course, and not just by what she'd heard from Jarl Laila. The Thieves Guild was notorious, not only in Skyrim but all across Tamriel. She hadn't been interested in joining the one in Cyrodiil, but she had briefly considered joining this one when she had returned to Skyrim two years ago. She was coming to Riften to kill Grelod, after all. But then she'd gotten sidetracked and one thing led to another; next thing she knew, she had titles, and honor, and the most powerful man in Skyrim as a lover. She was Stormblade. She was the Dragonborn. Had she stayed in Windhelm, who knows what could have happened? Ulfric had hinted at marriage once or twice. She could have ended up becoming queen. Joining the Thieves Guild now was a step back. Wasn't it?

Wasn't it?

If so, then why, when she looked at the well in the center of town and at that accursed orphanage across the canal, when the odor of fish mingled with the scent of boiling honey to create a cloying miasma over the city, when she thought about living and working in the sewers of Riften and skulking around in the shadows—when she looked at Brynjolf—why did she feel as though she would be trading up? Perhaps she wasn't getting sidetracked in Riften. Maybe the Dawnguard was the distraction.

"Perhaps I can stick around for a couple of days," she said with a smile.

"You'll be glad you did. I guarantee it."

Selene chuckled. "The man who peddles Falmer Blood Elixir is giving me guarantees? I can't tell you how reassuring that is. I'm going back to the Bee and Barb to pay for a couple more nights, and then I'll be ready for my tour. Should I meet you here or in the Ragged Flagon?" He looked a little surprised, and she said, "What? Did you think I didn't know what you were talking about?"

"Here might be best. There are some bad elements in the Ratway. Could be dangerous for a little lass like you."

"Ragged Flagon it is, then." She stepped closer and whispered in his ear. "You know all those things I said when I was warning you about robbing a stranger?"

"Uh-huh."

"Some of them are true." She placed a quick kiss on his cheek and turned away before he could ask which ones.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	2. A Nightingale's Tale 2: Local Color

A Nightingale's Tale 2

Local Color

Selene had played in the Ratway once as a child after sneaking out of the orphanage with an older boy when Grelod wasn't looking. She had enjoyed navigating the dark tunnels, throwing rocks at skeevers, and hiding from vagrants. The boy had even managed to pickpocket a bum lying in a corner. She had earned the beating of her life, and it was probably the stupidest thing she had ever done, but it certainly wasn't the last dank labyrinth she'd explore. In fact, if not for that adventure, she might never have escaped Honorhall, because it had given her the idea of escaping permanently. She tried to think of the boy's name as she drew her daggers and pushed open the door to the sewer—Victor, Viper, something with a V. She wondered what had ever happened to him.

Two thugs stood in the tunnel at the first turn, talking about how they were cheating the Thieves Guild. One, with a gruff voice and the scent of boiled cabbage, was unhappy because their plans weren't moving as swiftly as they had imagined. The other, whose voice was pompous and high-pitched, made it clear that _he_ was the brains of the outfit and the unhappy one should just worry about cracking skulls. There was no way around the pair, so she snuck up behind them and waited just outside the turn.

"I'm going to check the door and make sure nobody's—what's this?" The pompous one stuck his head around the corner to see Selene standing there, smiling at him. Cabbage Man turned around and barked, "Hey!"

"There's probably no way you're going to just let me go through, is there?" she asked.

"Not likely," said pompous. He drew his sword and swung at her, but Selene ducked out of his reach and took a swipe at his sword arm with her fire-enchanted dagger. He squealed like a little girl and dropped the sword as his tunic caught fire, and Selene lunged in and stabbed him in the belly. He dropped with a whimper.

She stepped over the body to challenge Cabbage Man, who stood waiting. He threw his hands up in the air. "I ain't gonna hit no lady."

"You've got to be kidding me!"

"I'm not. You're free to pass. I'll take care of Drahff, there."

If he didn't want to fight, Selene wouldn't argue, even if his reasoning was a bit silly. She eased around him, daggers still at the ready in case he tried something, but he simply stood his ground and let her go. She turned the corner and walked through another room to find a gap in the tunnel with a drawbridge that was pulled up on the other side. On the level below, a door led off into another hallway. She could either go back with Cabbage Man or drop to the lower level and continue on, so she jumped.

She passed a few vagrants in the sewers, and they ignored her for the most part. She killed a skeever who got in her way, but other than that she didn't have any trouble until she happened upon a shadowy room full of bear traps. The traps were easy to see with her night vision, but she completely missed the brawny Imperial who came at her from the corner, fists swinging. _He_ wasn't afraid to hit a lady, and he sent her sprawling; only lightning reflexes kept her from getting her hand caught in one of the traps. Her jaw throbbed with pain, but as she worked it she realized it wasn't broken. She was going to have a lovely bruise, though. She scrambled to her feet as he approached her again, and she managed to duck his next swing and jab him in the ribs with her shock dagger.

"Damn you," he muttered, "that hurt." He swung around again, his fist barely missing her, and she caught his arm again. "Will you stop that?" he cried furiously.

"Let me pass, or I'll cut you to ribbons."

He stopped and regarded her. "You're not here to rob me?"

"I'm just trying to get to the Ragged Flagon. This was the only way through."

"Well, you didn't have to stab me!"

"You were beating me up!"

"Well, go on. Get out of here before I decide to beat you up some more."

Once again, Selene didn't argue. She tiptoed around the rest of the bear traps and out the far door, where she found a set of stairs leading back up to the first level. After a few more twists and turns she came to a room that was open to the world above. Sunlight shone in through a grate and illuminated a tiny oasis of flowers and butterflies. Unfortunately, a bloody axe stuck into a stump detracted from the beauty of the scene. When she entered the next room, she came full circle. The drawbridge stood just outside the far door and down a short hallway. A flight of stairs led down to yet another door, and she heaved a sigh of relief when she opened it and stepped into a huge hall and out of the freakish maze of the Ratway.

The hall was round, and a shallow drainage pond dominated the center of the room, with several nooks located around the perimeter. The nooks appeared as if they had once been market stalls, but now they only held barrels and bales of straw. The tavern Brynjolf had spoken of was on the far side, and it wasn't much to look at. The bar stood at the back, and a few tables and chairs had been placed in front of it and on a deck overlooking the pond. There were only a handful of people in the tavern, including the bartender and Brynjolf, who was talking about her as she approached.

"This one's different; I'm telling you."

"We've heard it before, Bryn," said a rough-looking Nord in leather armor.

"No, you didn't see her. She turned a fishing job around on me, and that wasn't all. Then in the market this morning...the lass is an artist."

"Give it up, Bryn," the bartender urged him. "You and Delvin and Vex are a dying breed. And even if she _is_ as good as you say, what are the chances she's gonna make it through the Ratway? Face it, you're never gonna see her again."

Selene cleared her throat, and they all looked up with surprise.

"Oh no?" Brynjolf quipped. "Then what, my friend, do you say about that? Well, well, color me impressed, lass!"

"You were right. The Ratway _is_ dangerous. I'm afraid I killed one of your men when he tried to attack me. I think the other one ran off."

The bartender and the roughneck laughed, but Brynjolf looked at her with concern. "One of _my_ men? What did they look like?"

Selene shrugged. "Just your typical Nord thugs. One was named Drahff. He's the one I killed, I think."

Everyone bristled at Selene's mention of Drahff, and a bald Breton sitting at one of the tables grunted. "Drahff and Hewnon," he muttered. "You said they attacked you?"

"Well, Drahff did. I guess I overheard some things I wasn't supposed to hear."

"Lemme guess: they were conspiring against the Guild." Selene nodded. "Bryn, I told you they was trouble!"

"You were right, Delvin; I'm sorry I doubted you. And you took Drahff out all by yourself? Again, lass, I'm impressed."

"I told you you'd be surprised."

"Vekel, how about a drink for the lady?"

The bartender drew a mug of mead, and Brynjolf took it and his own mug and led Selene to a table on the deck. He sat down across from her and slouched back in his seat as though he were a jarl lounging on his throne. He was no longer wearing his fine clothes but had changed into a black-leather cuirass with at least a million buckles and pockets, probably the Guild's armor, because some of the others were similarly dressed. The dark armor helped him blend with the shadows around him, and it seemed as though he might disappear at any moment. "Where did you learn to pick a pocket like that?" he asked.

"I don't know. I was just always pretty good at it. I hide in the shadows, and I pick pockets. I'm also a good fighter, which came in very handy."

"Drahff."

"And the guy with the bear traps."

"Sorry you had so much trouble."

"Oh, it was no trouble," she assured him. "It was easy."

"She's headstrong, too." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag of coin, which he dropped on the table. "You ran away so quickly earlier, I didn't get a chance to pay you."

"That's okay; I knew where you'd be."

"There's a lot more where that came from if you're interested. I happen to have a job I can give you right now. It's local, and you can be back in time for supper."

"What do you need me to do?"

"I need you to handle a few deadbeat merchants. Keerava in the Bee and Barb, Bersi Honey-Hand in the Pawned Prawn, and Haelga at the bunkhouse—you remember Haelga, the one who bought the Falmer Blood Elixir—all owe the Guild some serious coin; and you're going to talk them into paying up." When she leaned back and folded her arms across her chest, he said, "Do you have a problem with that?"

"If I say 'yes,' I'm out, right?"

"I need to know up front what you can handle and what you can't."

"I can handle it just fine; I just don't like bullies. I'm a thief, not a thug."

"Ah, I get it. Nothing says you have to strong arm them. There are plenty of ways to get what you want, of which I'm sure you're aware. You're a smart lass, and you have a way with words. I'll tell you what I know about each of them, and I doubt you'll have any trouble."

"Okay, I'm listening."

"Keerava is as stubborn as they come, but she has a soft spot for family and for Talen-Jei. You might be able to persuade him to help you get through to her. As for Haelga and Bersi, you might be able to charm them into paying up."

"Haelga's a lesbian?"

"Haelga is a devout follower of Dibella, and she's not picky about her lovers. The woman will sleep with just about anything that walks. Bersi is married, but he has a wandering eye. As easily as you distracted me, you'll have him eating out of the palm of your hand just by setting foot in his shop. If you don't want to go that route, both Haelga and Bersi have trinkets they're fond of. Haelga's is a statue of Dibella, and Bersi's is a hideous Dwemer urn he keeps out front. People are so fond of their little toys."

"What do they owe?"

"They owe about a hundred gold each, but the money's really not what's important here. It's the message. They need to learn to take the Guild seriously. I'm sure I don't need to tell you not to kill any of them." As Selene slowly relaxed, uncrossed her arms, and reached for her mug, he watched her carefully. "So it's not extortion itself that bothers you, just the manner of collection. You're an odd one, lass."

"Better odd than dull."

Brynjolf threw back his head and laughed heartily. "I can't even imagine a dull moment with you. All right, then. Get to it, and then meet me back here. Any more questions?"

"Just one. Where am I going to sleep after Keerava kicks me out of the Bee and Barb?"

He chuckled again and raised an eyebrow. "I have an idea or two."

Selene laughed and got up from the table. "Bye, Brynjolf," she sing-songed as she scratched the whiskers under his chin. She fled the Ragged Flagon, thankful for the gloom, because she was pretty sure she was blushing. The lever was just where Brynjolf had said it was, and Selene pulled it and crossed the drawbridge, grumbling to herself. If she had been smart, she'd have run straight for Fort Dawnguard the minute he had given her stuff back. But leave it to her to go all soft because some pretty scoundrel caught her eye.

The lunch rush was just ending when Selene stepped into the Bee and Barb and sidled up to Talen-Jei. "What do you want?" he asked unceremoniously. Selene had already learned that he wasn't being rude; he was just being concise.

"I wanted to ask you about Keerava. How'd you two meet?"

"The first time I ever walked into the inn, there she was. Been smitten with her ever since." He leaned in close and whispered. "I'm thinking of asking her to marry me."

"That's great!"

"It would be, but I'm having trouble finding the items I need for the ring."

"What kind of items do you need?"

"Each Argonian wedding band has three flawless amethysts set into the design. I have the band, but I can't find the stones."

"I might be able to help with that."

"You would do that? Oh, but you're with Brynjolf. You must want something."

"I do need something, but I'll get you the stones either way. That being said, if you could help me talk some sense into Keerava about the money she owes the Guild, it would be greatly appreciated."

"I don't think it can be done. She knows that the Thieves Guild is in a bad way, and she believes she doesn't have to pay." He lowered his voice again and said, "I'm only telling you this because I care about Keerava. She has some family on a farm in Morrowind. Perhaps that information will help you get what you need from her."

"Thanks, Talen-Jei. And I'm sorry."

"Just make sure she doesn't get hurt."

She went to the bar and sat on a stool, waiting for Keerava. "I've come to collect what you owe Brynjolf," she told the Argonian when she came over.

"No. I told him I wasn't paying him anymore, and I meant it. Now, get out of my inn."

"Okay, I'll go, but you should know that the Guild has some information about members of your family living in Morrowind. I haven't known them very long, so I don't really know what they would do with that knowledge. I just know that if it were _my_ family, I'd want to know what I was up against."

"How could they possibly—no. No, don't let them hurt my family. They mean too much to me." She dug into a strongbox under the counter and brought out a bag of coins. "Here. Tell Brynjolf he'll have no more trouble from me." Selene stood and watched her for a few moments. "What is it?" Keerava finally asked.

"Can I still stay here tonight?"

"Yes, your money is still good here. Just don't expect me to be your best friend."

Selene went out the door and across the bridge to Haelga's bunkhouse. The attractive blonde was standing at the front desk looking bored when Selene walked in. "This ain't an inn," she snapped. "If you want a room, go to the Bee and Barb."

Selene didn't respond, just wandered around the room until she found the Dibella statue. She picked it up and held it across her arms as though it were a large bouquet of flowers.

"Put that back," Haelga demanded.

Selene set the statue on the counter and smiled congenially at Haelga. "Dibella, huh?"

"You need to put that back!"

"Actually, I need to collect a debt from you. For Brynjolf."

Haelga's eyes widened. "What—don't hurt the statue, please."

"I don't know; it's kind of tacky. Maybe I should drop it down the well."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"No, of course not. But I _am_ going to take it. Looking it over, I'd say it's worth about a hundred Septims, wouldn't you? See, it's real simple. You owe Brynjolf some coin, and you're not paying. Thus, I'll take the statue as payment."

"You're going to hold my statue hostage?"

"No, I'm going to _sell_ your statue to get the coin you owe the Guild."

"Wait here." She opened the door behind her, and Selene could hear her rummaging through a drawer. After a moment she came out with a bag and held it out for Selene.

She sifted through the bag and confirmed there were roughly a hundred Septims. "See how easy that was? Next time, if you owe the Guild money, just pay it on time, and you won't have to worry about me stealing your statue in the middle of the night when you're not around to pay for it."

"You should go now."

"Going right now. Pleasure doing business with you, Haelga."

On her way out the door, she collided with a very upset Argonian woman who was muttering to herself and not watching where she was going. She swayed when she bumped into Selene and whimpered a bit. "I'm sorry," she whined.

"It's okay, just try to be more careful. What's the matter?"

"It's the skooma. I tried some last year, and I now I can't stop. My boss sent me home from work and said if I show up like this one more time, he's going to fire me. I can't lose my job."

Selene pulled a healing potion out of her bag. "Here, take this. What's your name?"

"Wujeeta."

"Okay, Wujeeta. I want you to get yourself clean. If you need more potions, come to me, but no more skooma."

"Thank you, stranger."

"It's Selene. Now, where'd you get the skooma?"

Wujeeta blanched. "Oh, no, I can't tell you that! They'll kill me!"

"Wujeeta, they're hurting you and others, and I can stop them. Besides, you owe me for the potion."

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you. It's Sarthis Idren in the Riften Warehouse. I don't know who his supplier is, though. The warehouse is locked up tight, and he usually meets me outside."

Selene patted the Argonian on the shoulder. "I'll take care of it. You just stay healthy, okay?"

Wujeeta reached out and hugged her. "You're a true friend, Selene."

As she parted ways with the Argonian woman and headed for the Pawned Prawn, she stopped in front of a cute little house on the edge of the water. Peering around the side, she could see what appeared to be a deck over the lake. A "for sale" sign stood outside, so she assumed it was empty. The city guard was on the other side of the canal and not looking in her direction, so she decided to check out the inside. She picked the lock quickly and went in.

She walked into a kitchen area that opened onto a den, or possibly a bedroom. A door at the back of the room did indeed open onto a deck that not only overlooked the lake but had stairs leading down to the road below. Back inside, Selene noticed a flight of stairs leading down to a cellar, where she found three fairly large rooms. Two were connected by a wide doorway and could be used for labs or combat practice. The third was surely a bedroom. Selene stood in the center of the basement and turned in a circle, a broad smile crossing her face. She wanted this house. She'd have to talk to Laila's steward about buying it.

The guard was standing in front of the door when Selene opened it. She stopped short, thinking she was caught, but he simply asked her if she was planning on buying the house.

"I might," she replied. "It's just the right size for me."

"There's a Guild stash in the back, you know."

"Really."

What? Did everybody just assume because she was talking to Brynjolf in the market this morning that she was with the Thieves Guild?

She passed the guard and went across the bridge and into the Pawned Prawn, where Bersi Honey-Hand, a balding, fortyish Nord, stood behind the counter. He smiled and raised his eyebrows appreciatively when he saw her.

"Well met, stranger," he said enthusiastically.

Selene stopped and looked at the urn, which stood on a shelf across from the counter. Brynjolf had said it was ugly; she actually liked it.

"What can I do for you today?" Bersi asked her, placing his hands on the counter and leaning toward her.

"I'm not actually shopping today. I came to talk to you about your debt to the Thieves Guild."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I'm sure you do." She reached out and stroked the back of his hand. "We're really not asking for all that much, you know. And just think of all the benefits you get with us on your payroll. A smart, strong, handsome man like you should be able to see the whole picture."

"Well, the protection is nice," he muttered. "I don't get a lot of theft in my shop."

Selene gave him a sweet smile. "See? You help us, and we help you. As for me personally, I do other jobs outside the Guild, so I might be able to throw quite a lot of business your way. As long as you help my friends."

"And if I say no?"

Selene shrugged. "I can find others to buy and sell from. I don't know about Brynjolf, though. I hear he has quite a temper. Much better to deal with me, don't you think?"

"Aye, much better. All right." He brought out his strongbox and counted out a hundred coins, which he dropped into a sack and handed to Selene. "You will come back, right?"

"Of course I will, Bersi." She trailed a finger along the back of his hand. "Honey-Hand. I wonder why they call you that."

He was still staring at her, eyes and jaw open wide, when she walked out the door.

* * *

Selene walked up to the table where Brynjolf sat and dropped the three bags of gold on the table, then plopped down across from him.

"Very nice, lass! And you did it clean?"

"Not a drop of blood was shed, no trinkets were harmed, and I didn't have to sleep with Haelga. I also managed to keep my room at the Bee and Barb."

"Can't say I'm not disappointed about that. Did they give you any trouble?"

She shook her head. "Not really. I feel dirty, though. I didn't like doing that."

He reached into one of the bags, counted out fifty coins, and handed them to her. "Perhaps that'll help."

"It doesn't hurt, but no, it doesn't really help, either."

"Well, don't worry, lass. We can work around your code of honor. We all have things we'd rather not do. Fortunately the Guild is large enough that we can delegate appropriately. Are you ready to see our operation and how everything works?"

"I have a couple of questions first. Are you guys involved in the city's skooma operation?"

"No, we keep skooma for the patrons, and we'll occasionally run a shipment through for the Khajiit, but we don't push it in Riften if that's what you're asking. Why?"

"I have a name, and I'm thinking of going to the jarl about it."

He chuckled with amusement. "A thief who fights crime?"

"I want to buy the house over by Haelga's. I figured solving a crime for Laila would go a long way toward being allowed to buy the house."

"'Laila'? You're on a first-name basis with the jarl?" Selene simply smiled in response. "Is there anything else you haven't told me about yourself?"

"Tons."

"Then Divines help me. You said you had two questions."

"Yeah. Word on the street is that the Guild is in a bad way."

Brynjolf took a sip of his mead and nodded. "We are going through a bit of a rough patch. Delvin will tell you it's a curse, that we've gotten somebody piss-drunk mad at us, but I think it's just bad luck. A _lot_ of it, but still. I have a feeling, though, that with you working for us, our rough patch might be over. You just worry about making us lots of coin and let me worry about everything else, all right?"

"Sure."

He stood up and headed toward the back room of the tavern, motioning for Selene to follow. "Now, come with me, and I'll show you our operation."

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	3. A Nightingale's Tale 3: Goldenglow

A Nightingale's Tale 3

Goldenglow

Selene followed Brynjolf through a false back panel in the Flagon's pantry and into a cavernous cistern. A domed ceiling covered a pond much like the one in the tavern, but this one had a small island in the center and four stone bridges leading to it. Four exits led out of the center room, including the one they had just come from. Cots and chests were laid out around the perimeter, in addition to a cooking and eating area, an office section with a desk and display shelves, and a small archery range. A few people milled around the eating area and archery range, all wearing the same black armor. The hall was dimly lit, the air was chilly, and the smell of mold was prevalent; but it felt safe and welcoming, and Selene was instantly comfortable there.

Brynjolf led her across one of the bridges to the island, where a fiftyish Breton with salt-and-pepper hair waited. He might have been attractive if not for the scowl. Instead, he just looked severe. But it was scent that really disturbed her. It wasn't right, but she couldn't reason why. Something about him was just off, and it set her on edge. He didn't really scare her, but he was definitely someone to tread carefully around.

"Mercer," said Brynjolf, "this is the one I was telling you about. Selene, meet Mercer Frey."

"This had better not be another waste of Guild resources," Mercer groused. He looked Selene over. "It's real simple: you do what we say, _when_ we say, and you'll get rich. Botch the job, and you don't get paid. And keep your blade clean. We're not your common highway bandits here. Is that understood?"

"Understood."

"So Brynjolf says you've got what it takes. We'll see about that. I have a little project that will test just how good you are."

Brynjolf, who had been looking at Selene, jerked his head toward Mercer. "You're not thinking of Goldenglow, are you? Even our little Vex couldn't manage that."

"If she's as good as you say she is, I don't see the problem. Give her the details, and get it done." He gave Selene a curt nod and started to turn away.

"Mercer," Brynjolf called, and the Guild Master stopped. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

The Breton looked back at Selene. "Oh, yes. You're in. Welcome to the Guild. See Tonilia in the Ragged Flagon for your armor." He turned away and stalked across the bridge toward the office.

"He seemed friendly," Selene muttered sarcastically.

Brynjolf chuckled. "He just has a lot on his mind." He talked about the mission as they walked back to the tavern. "Goldenglow Estate is a bee farm. They raise the wretched little creatures for their honey. It's owned by a smart-mouthed wood elf by the name of Aringoth, and we want to teach him a lesson. You're going to clear out the main house and burn down three of the estate's hives."

"What's the catch?"

"The catch is you can't burn the whole place to the ground. Our client would be furious if you did, and we can't afford to get on her bad side."

"I'm guessing the client is Maven Black-Briar."

"Aye. That's why you can't burn all the hives. If you did, she'd have to import honey for the meadery, which would cut into her profits. We had an arrangement with Maven. We kept an eye on Goldenglow to make sure the operation kept running smoothly. In return, Maven allowed us to extort Aringoth and bring in a huge payout." Selene rolled her eyes. "You might as well get used to it, lass. I won't put you in that position again, but a large chunk of the Guild's coin comes from racketeering. Let's face it: we're the bad guys."

Her mind went to General Tullius telling saying the Imperials weren't the bad guys. "I'll live."

Brynjolf sat down at a table on the deck and Selene sat across from him. "See, Goldenglow was bringing in a hefty sum for the Guild, but out of the clear blue, Aringoth stopped sending us our cut. We sent Vex in and found out he had dismissed the city guard and hired a bunch of mercenaries to watch the place. Vex barely made it out alive. You should talk to her before you go."

"What about Aringoth?"

"Maven prefers that he remain alive, but if he tries to stop you, kill him."

"So how dangerous is it to cross Maven?"

"Nothing happens in Riften without Maven's consent. One word from her, and you could spend the rest of the Fourth Era in prison. Or end up floating in Lake Honrich. The Guild has a lot riding on this, so don't make me look foolish by mucking it up. _I_ don't want to end up floating in Lake Honrich, either."

Selene raised an eyebrow. "Don't just assume I'm gonna muck it up, and I won't make you look foolish. Don't worry your pretty head about it. I know what I'm doing."

Brynjolf smiled. "Aye, I believe you do. My apologies."

She started to get up from the table. "I'm off, then."

"You're not going _now,_ are you?"

"It's just past dinnertime, should be getting dark out. It's the best time to get out there, especially if I'm to talk to Vex before I go."

"You don't want to rest up first?"

Selene shrugged. "I don't sleep much, so it's no trouble for me to go now. The sooner I get it over with, the better, right?"

"Suit yourself. Vex is the blonde at the bar. And Selene, watch yourself out there. Those mercenaries don't take prisoners."

She scratched him under the chin. "Neither do I."

* * *

Vex left no doubt that she saw Selene as a threat. "Let's get one thing straight: I'm the best infiltrator in the Guild, and you're not about to replace me. Got that?"

"I'm not here to replace you, Vex. I'm here to help you."

"Yeah, well, just keep that in mind. And don't come to me with anything but business. This is not a friendship. Got _that_?"

The pretty Imperial was certainly living up to her name. Selene wanted to deck her. "Somehow I don't think that'll be a problem. Brynjolf said you could tell me about Goldenglow."

"I tried to get in to teach him a lesson, but I found out he'd more than tripled the guard. There must have been eight of them in there. It was like he was daring us to come and get him."

"Guards aside, what's the best way get in?"

"Goldenglow sits on an island in the middle of Lake Honrich. There's a bridge, but I doubt the mercenaries are going to just let you walk across like you own the place. You'll have to swim."

"Hmm. Going in dripping wet is not conducive to sneaking."

"There's a sewer tunnel that dumps into the lake on the northwest side of the island. That's how I got in. It should still be unguarded. You can slip in there and wait 'til you dry off. When you're ready to go in, I'd recommend you come back up to the surface and pick your way into the back door. Can you pick a lock?"

"Better than you."

With that, Vex actually smiled. "We'll have to put that to the test sometime. I'd go top to bottom if I were you. Aringoth's room is on the top floor, and you may be able to get keys from him to help you with safes and chests. Look, be careful out there. I don't know what kind of experience you have, but I wouldn't recommend fighting your way through. Sneak in, and sneak out; just stay away from the mercenaries as best you can."

As she headed toward the deck where Tonilia sat, the bald Breton who had warned Brynjolf about Drahff and Hewnon took her arm. "Have a seat," he offered, and Selene sat down. "I heard you tell Brynjolf you knew what you were doing."

"That's not to say I don't need advice if you have some to give."

"There's a good girl." He held out a hand for her to shake. "Delvin Mallory. I heard you say you picked locks better than Vex, but any other training you need, we can help you out. I'm the stealth expert; Niruin can train you in archery, and Vipir can teach you pickpocketing."

"Did you say Vipir?" she asked, her face lighting up.

"Do you know him?"

"_That's_ what it was! I was trying to think of his name when I came into the Ratway this morning. Aye, I know him. We lived at the orphanage together."

Delvin chuckled. "Good ol' Honorhall."

"You too, eh?"

"Long before you and Vipir, but yeah. Anyhow, Vex and I can also send some jobs your way if you want to earn some extra coin. And who knows? Maybe you'll be the break we need."

"I heard you think the Guild is cursed."

"They all think I'm crazy, but bad luck just don't last this long. You be extra careful when you go to Goldenglow. You may know what you're doing, but the curse, the luck, all that are hanging over your head."

"But I don't believe in luck, Delvin."

He laughed. "You're a thief and you don't believe in luck? That's the best one I've heard all year!"

"We make our own luck."

"Well, humor me, then, and just be extra careful."

"Will do."

Tonilia, a sweet-faced Redguard in her thirties, had already put a set of armor together for Selene. Tonilia's job was to provide supplies for the thieves, but she also acted as a fence. "If you come across anything you don't exactly own, bring it to me and I'll give you a fair price—minus a little slice for the Guild, of course."

Selene thanked Tonilia for the armor and headed to the Bee and Barb, where she enjoyed a quick meal before going to her room and lying down for a nap. She didn't expect to sleep with so many things going through her mind. Brynjolf, Goldenglow, mercenaries, the Guild, Brynjolf, Vipir, Mercer Frey and his odd scent, Delvin Mallory's certainty that they were cursed, Brynjolf—

"Oh, just stop it," she said aloud to herself before closing her eyes.

She dozed on an off throughout the night and got up sometime in the wee hours of the morning. She donned her new armor and equipped her bow, arrows, daggers, and a knapsack that was empty except for a few healing potions. She left the Bee and Barb and went out the city gates, veering left and walking along the lakeshore. She turned back and looked up at Honeyside, the little house standing silent guard over the lake. Someday soon, she would sit on that deck with a bottle of mead and watch the sunset. Maybe she could sweet talk Brynjolf into joining her.

The island was in the center of the lake, and it appeared to be about a 200-yard swim, not including the time it would take to look for the sewer grate. She stood on the northeast side, trying to calculate in her mind how far she could swim while laden with a bow, daggers, and knapsack, how long it would take to get from her location on the northeast side of the island to the northwest, and how long she would have to swim underwater before finding the grate. She'd looked for underwater tunnels before, and she'd been fortunate to find the entrance easily. But she also hadn't had to swim half a mile before finding it. She was directly across from the back door Vex spoke of, and she decided to swim for that and find a place to hide while she dried off and assessed her next move.

She waded in and swam across the lake, squeezing the excess water from her hair before she climbed the rocks to the plateau where the house rested and found another sewer grate next to the back door. She opened the grate and climbed into the hole, replacing it behind her, and tucked herself into a corner to wait until nightfall. When she was living at the Palace of the Kings, Ulfric had taught her to play chess. He said it taught patience. Well, sitting in the corner of a sewer for sixteen hours would definitely test her patience.

Ulfric. It had taken months to get over him, and she still thought about him every day. Usually, anyway. But as she sat in the sewer with nothing to do _but_ think, she realized she hadn't thought of him in two days. Now it was Brynjolf she couldn't get out of her head. He had been so smooth when he had bought her dinner and sat down to flirt with her and pick her pocket; he was a pro at charming women. She probably couldn't trust him as far as she could throw him. He'd likely slept with every woman in the Thieves Guild, maybe every woman in Riften. But something about the red-haired rogue just felt right. It made her want to trust him and almost believe she could. Something about Brynjolf felt like home.

Brynjolf notwithstanding, the Ragged Flagon and the Thieves Guild felt like home as well. She had been happy with the Companions, and she'd been happy with Ulfric and the Stormcloaks, but something had been missing. She had always said, "This is temporary. There's somewhere I have to be." How many times had she told Farkas that Whiterun was just a waypoint for her on the way to Riften?

Selene waited until nearly midnight to emerge from the sewer. Fortunately, the moons were new and there wasn't much light shining on Goldenglow's back door. The lock was a bitch to pick, and she went through five picks before the tumblers finally fell into place. She slipped inside and found the house nearly silent. She could smell the mercenaries, but none of them were nearby. In the kitchen, she found a few Septims and a satchel containing a circlet. Farther in was a locked closet containing chests loaded with gold, jewels, and potions. She left the potions, but the gold and gems fit nicely into her armor's many pockets.

She finally found the mercenaries in a small niche off the dining room. Two of them sat at a table playing dice, and one marched up and down the hallway adjacent to the dining room. Selene went through the dining room to the opposite door, easily sneaking past the mercenaries because they were making so much noise of their own noise. The hallway met the one with the sentry, with stairs to the left and a gated doorway to the right. The sentry was evidently guarding the gated door. She decided to take Vex's advice and try the upstairs first before seeing what was locked away there.

On the second floor, she found a lounge with several tables, all containing varying amounts of gold. It appeared as though they had just left their money on the table after a night of gambling. That was probably a bad idea, she thought as she helped herself to the coin. After sneaking past another mercenary who wasn't doing his job, Selene came to Aringoth's bedroom. A mercenary sat at a table in an antechamber with his back to the door, and it was easy to slip past him, but the door was locked. He was too close; there was no way she would get that door unlocked without him hearing. Thus, she did what she had to do. She drew her daggers, stepped up behind him, and slit his throat. He died with a soft gurgle, and Selene lowered him quietly to the floor.

Aringoth was in his room, sitting at a desk; but he appeared to be dozing, his chin propped on a fist and his eyes closed. Selene swiped a bag of gold from a table and looted the chest at the foot of his bed, and then she carefully pulled a couple of keys and a few Septims from his pocket. She was about to leave when she noticed a small statue on a nightstand on the far side of the room. It was gold and depicted a bee sitting on a honeycomb. If that statue was solid gold, it could be worth a fortune. She tiptoed around the bed, careful not to wake Aringoth, who was mumbling in his sleep. The statue was ugly, but at the same time it was magnificent. And heavy. Swimming back across the lake with this baby was going to be a joy to behold. Still, she imagined it would be worth it.

As she turned away from the nightstand, she locked eyes with Aringoth. He was awake and staring at her. He didn't alert the guards, didn't speak or even move. He simply sighed and watched her cross the room. The Bosmer probably wasn't surprised she was there. He had to have figured that the Guild would send someone else after Vex had failed. In any case, it seemed he was letting her rob him. Why in Oblivion would he do that?

She left the room and silently explored the rest of the second floor, in which she found little but a few coins and a sleeping mercenary. Back downstairs, she waited until the sentry was walking in the other direction and tried one of the keys on the gate. It swung open on the first try, and she closed it softly after going through, just in time to hear the sentry's footsteps approaching again. The room she entered was no more than a landing; a flight of stairs led down to the basement. Selene waited until the sentry turned and went back down the hall, and she carefully descended the stairs. She snuck past a couple of mercenaries who were languishing in a storage area and went through a door to find even more storage. Nothing there but a few deer hides and a slaughterfish mounted on a plaque.

Down the hall from the storage room, she found another guard. This one wasn't going to be easy to sneak past. He sat in a chair facing a set of stairs she would have to descend. She drew her daggers and crept up behind him, but just as she was about to strike, he stood and turned around.

"Aha!" he cried. "Thought you were good, huh?"

Selene didn't speak, just crouched into a fighting stance as the mercenary drew his sword. He took a swing at her and connected with her side, ripping a gash in her brand-new armor and the flesh beneath. She gasped with pain and stepped to the side, thrusting her fire-enchanted dagger at his ribs while she moved. The blow landed, and his paltry fur armor wasn't enough to stop the red-hot blade from sinking in. He snarled as she withdrew it and reached for his side instead of launching a counterattack, and Selene stepped behind him and sent the shock dagger into the back of his neck. He swung his elbow back, catching the side of her head and stunning her. She staggered against the wall, losing contact with her dagger. Turning his head, he reached up to pull the blade out, but something inside his neck snapped. A confused expression came over his face, and then the light went out of his eyes and he fell dead before her.

With her back to the wall, Selene slid to the floor, rubbing her temple where the mercenary had struck her. She didn't think she had a concussion; he had just knocked her silly. Still, it was a few moments before her head stopped spinning and she was seeing clearly again. She drank a healing potion, but not knowing what lay before her, she didn't want to take the time to unbuckle her armor and examine her wound. She just prayed it wasn't bad enough to leave a trail of blood behind her. When she finally felt she could stand, she got up and pulled her dagger from the mercenary's neck and wiped both blades on his clothes, then went downstairs.

On the next level, she found a safe and a large chest. She tried one of the keys on the safe, and it opened easily, revealing some gold and a document, folded in half with a broken seal. Selene opened the document to find a bill of sale for Goldenglow. It seemed Aringoth had sold the estate to an unknown buyer. There was no name, only a symbol at the top that looked like a dagger draped in a cloak. Mercer Frey was going to have a fit. She rolled the document up and stuffed it in the empty potion bottle, making sure the cork was nice and tight so it would stay dry when she swam back across the lake, and then she opened the unlocked chest. She collected a hundred Septims or so from the chest and a table nearby and then went through a gate that led back to the sewer.

Once she was safely in the sewer, she took off her armor and checked the wound. It was far from life threatening, but she would probably need stitches. After swimming across the lake, she might actually need a healer because that water was far from sanitary. The fact that she hadn't thought to bring any sort of first aid supplies irked her, but she couldn't worry about it now. The job wasn't over; she still had to burn the hives.

The hives were on a nearby island, which was connected to the main property by a foot bridge. Unfortunately the bridge was guarded by three mercenaries. She thought she could sneak by if she went under the bridge, and then she could wade or swim around to the backside where the hives were located. She crouched low and stayed in the shadows, moving very slowly through the shallow water so as not to make a splash. When she reached the island, she started around the side. The water was deeper in some places than others, and it stung the wound in her side, but she made it around back with no real trouble. Getting up to the hives, however, was not an easy task. The only way up was to climb several steep rocks, and though she was a great climber, with wet feet it was hard to keep her footing. She slipped once and fell into the water with a loud splash, and she waited for someone to investigate, silently swearing at herself and rubbing her temple, which had started to throb. When no one came after several minutes, she assumed they hadn't heard and tried again.

She finally reached the surface and crept around a high fence that acted as a windbreak. In the center was a meadow of tall flowers, grass, and clover, and the hives stood like small huts against the fence. The hives were relatively quiet, and Selene wondered if the bees were sleeping. Did bees sleep at night like humans did? It was no matter. She walked down the line until she came to the third hive; and she drew her fire-enchanted bow, nocked an arrow, and shot. When the arrow landed, flames immediately spread across the wooden structure. She stepped back to the second hive and did the same, and it also caught fire easily. The last one, however, refused to catch. It took half a dozen arrows and a couple of precious minutes before the flames started to spread, and by the time she was fleeing around the fence to jump into the lake, the guards were already approaching to investigate. She was almost all the way to the mainland before someone noticed an arrow and realized it was arson, too far away to be detected.

With a heavy sigh of relief, Selene waded to the shore and squeezed the water out of her hair before starting the walk back to Riften. It was nearly dawn when she arrived in the Ragged Flagon, and she found Brynjolf asleep on a cot, lying on his stomach with one arm dangling over the side. She decided to let him sleep and come back later and was just turning away when he muttered, "Hey, get back here. I'm awake."

"I suppose you _always_ snore like that when you're awake."

"I wasn't snoring," he declared as he sat up.

"You keep telling yourself that." Selene plopped down next to him, and his scent changed right away, but this wasn't the time or the place for anything other than business, so she ignored it. She reached into her pack for the bottle containing the bill of sale and handed it to Brynjolf.

"Cheers," he said, holding up the bottle for a toast.

"There's something more interesting than a healing potion in there, I assure you."

He uncorked the bottle and fished the document out, eyes widening as he read. "Aringoth sold Goldenglow? What is that idiot thinking? He has no idea the extent of Maven's fury when she's been cut out of a deal. There's no buyer named, though. Any idea what this symbol is?"

Selene shook her head. "Never seen it before."

"Blast. All right, I'll check my sources and speak to Mercer. In the meantime, get some food and rest."

She set her knapsack at his feet. "Here's the rest of what I stole."

"I'll go through it in the morning." His brow suddenly furrowed with worry, and he brushed his fingers across her cheek. "Wait, are you hurt?"

"On top of the fight in the Ratway yesterday morning, I got elbowed in the head and took a sword in my side, but it's all minor. Except for my headache."

"So you had trouble?"

"Not much. I only had to kill two of the mercenaries; I snuck past all the rest."

"_That's_ not much? By the Eight, lass, who _are_ you?"

Selene chuckled. "Funny thing. Aringoth actually saw me in his room. He watched me steal a statue from his nightstand and just let me go. He didn't sound an alarm or anything."

"He probably figured we'd get him sooner or later and there was no point fighting it."

"Who knows? Before I go, there's the matter of my pay."

Brynjolf chuckled. "You're smart as a whip, lass. Come with me." He went to Mercer's desk, where he retrieved a small sack of gold. "Keep doing right by us and there's plenty more where that came from."

"Thank you, sir. Now I'm off to the Bee and Barb. I'll stop back in tomorrow."

"Do. The rest of the Guild wants to meet you. Oh, come here. I want to show you something." He led her past a handful of sleeping thieves to one of the nooks leading off the cistern, where a ladder ascended up to the surface. "Secret entrance. It comes out in a crypt in the cemetery, beneath the Temple of Mara."

"Nice. I'll see you later, then." She started up the ladder, but Brynjolf didn't move, simply stood and watched her climb. "What is it?" she asked.

"Nothing. Just admiring the view."

She rewarded him with a laugh and continued up the ladder toward the exit.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	4. A Nightingale's Tale 4: Quid Pro Quo

A Nightingale's Tale 4

Quid Pro Quo

Selene spent the next few weeks getting to know her Guild brothers and sisters. It was a tight-knit group, but with the sole exception of Vex (and Dirge when he was in a bad mood), they were all friendly and welcoming. She found out very quickly that with a ratio of four women to eleven men, there was quite a bit of competition for the females' affections. From the first day, she found herself fending off the advances of several Guild members. None of them were really pushy, but they were reluctant to take no for an answer. The only real couple was Vekel and Tonilia, although rumors were rampant that she was sleeping with Brynjolf. Selene got all the gossip from Sapphire, the woman Brynjolf had been with in the Bee and Barb the night they had met; she got support and advice from Rune, who was one of the sweetest, most open people she had ever known and arguably the only gentleman in the bunch; and she found lots to talk about with Vipir, who remembered her from Honorhall.

"After you and Ben ran away, we couldn't go outside for a month," he told her.

"I'm sorry about that."

"I'm not. It was worth it. We were all so glad you got out. Funny you should end up back here."

"One of the reasons I came back was because I thought about killing Grelod."

Vipir scoffed. "I don't think she _can_ be killed. Sovngarde won't take her, and I'm pretty sure Oblivion is scared of her."

Selene laughed in response. "I've put it at the back of my mind for now anyway. I'm a thief and a fighter, not a murderer."

"Aye, but killing Grelod wouldn't be murder. It would be justice."

Other than her stay at Honorhall, Selene didn't share much about her past with anyone, even Brynjolf, who was always trying to get her to open up. She wasn't sure how to tell him she was the Dragonborn, _and_ Stormblade, a key figure in the civil war and slayer of General Tullius himself, _and_ the ex-lover of Ulfric Stormcloak, _and_ a werewolf. How did you start a conversation like that?

She did a handful of jobs for Vex and Delvin, picking a few pockets and breaking into some businesses. One such trip took her to Windhelm, and she made a concerted effort to get in and out as quickly as possible, keeping her hood pulled up so no one would recognize her. She asked Vex not to give her jobs in Windhelm anymore, but the Imperial said, "Hey, if you can't take it, there's the door."

She really couldn't stand Vex.

Laila Law-Giver invited her to lunch one afternoon, and Selene mentioned Wujeeta and the skooma problem to the jarl, who nodded her understanding. "We are aware of Sarthis Idren's operation, but he must have informants in the city guard. Every time we've made a move to arrest him, he's escaped."

"I could probably take care of it discretely. Maybe I can surprise him."

Laila gave her the key to the warehouse, and Selene went there directly in the hope that if anyone had overheard her conversation with Laila, they hadn't had time to get word to Sarthis. Only the dark elf and one cohort were present in the warehouse, and they were high on skooma. While the substance increased their strength and speed, it impaired their judgment and response time, and Selene barely broke a sweat as she darted in and out of the fray, parrying wild swings from each opponent's sword and ultimately planting her own in each of their chests. A search of the warehouse revealed a locked room filled with moon sugar and skooma. In a satchel on the desk, she found a note from someone named Kilnyr, informing Sarthis that a new shipment of moon sugar had just arrived from Morrowind and a supply of skooma would be ready by the time Sarthis arrived at Cragslane Cavern. Selene took the note, the skooma, and the moon sugar and reported back to Laila.

"Then waste no time," said the jarl.

"I don't know Cragslane Cavern."

"I'll have Unmid show you on the map. If you're successful with this, you'll be well on your way to a title in The Rift."

"Titles are great, Laila, but what I really want is Honeyside."

The jarl chuckled. "Honeyside is yours, Stormblade. See Anuriel to discuss payment arrangements. And you'll _still_ be on your way to a title."

Selene spoke to the steward and arranged for the purchase and furnishing of Honeyside. With a wink, Anuriel mentioned the Thieves Guild stash in the back yard. From there, Anuriel took her to Unmid, Laila's housecarl, who showed her the location of Cragslane Cavern. She studied the map and worked up a travel plan, then decided she should have a shield-brother on such a mission. She made her way to the plaza, where Brynjolf stood in his stall, looking bored.

"How's business?" she asked as she walked up to him.

"Slow," he lamented. "I need to come up with something new."

"What, 'make love like a saber cat' isn't working anymore?"

"People always want bigger, better. You know that."

"How about 'make love like a mammoth'?"

Brynjolf laughed. "Well, it's bigger, anyway. Actually, with as much coin as you're bringing in for the Guild, I'm tempted to abandon the stall altogether. It'd be nice to get out and get my hands dirty again."

"I have a little job to do for the jarl. I'm afraid it's legitimate so it's not exactly Guild-worthy, but it'll give you a change of scenery. Wanna come along?"

"What would we be doing?"

"Remember the skooma operation I mentioned before? I found out where it's coming from, and Laila wants me to clear the place out."

"It's disconcerting, hearing you call the jarl by her first name."

"Better a friend than an enemy, don't you think?"

"But she has to know you're in the Guild. I mean, you're wearing the armor."

Selene leaned closer and lowered her voice. "I don't think she even knows it's Guild armor. I really like Laila, but she's rather clueless. She has no idea what goes on in this city. Her steward and housecarl keep her in the dark, and I think she likes it that way."

"Anuriel and Unmid are in the Guild's pocket."

She raised an eyebrow. "Really? Well, that explains a lot. So. You coming with me?"

"It shouldn't be a problem, but I'll have to talk to Mercer. How long will we be gone?"

"I figure we can leave tomorrow morning, and we'll be gone three nights. The hideout is in the southern part of Eastmarch."

"I don't know, lass. What makes you think you can trust me with your virtue?"

"I'm heavily armed. Hey, guess what: I got my house."

His eyes lit up. "You got Honeyside? Congratulations."

"I'm on my way over now to have a look around. Why don't you close up shop and go with me?"

"I'd love to, but if I'm going to Eastmarch with you, I'll need to get back to the cistern and prepare. You'll want to check in with Mercer as well, just to let him know what you're doing. You know how he is; he likes to keep tabs on his people."

* * *

Selene didn't bother talking to Mercer until the next morning when she met Brynjolf in the cistern, and he wasn't happy. He didn't want to let either of them go, but after a lengthy discussion in which Selene made it clear that she was going whether Brynjolf went or not, he relented. He held Brynjolf back when Selene walked away, but she managed to hear what he said.

"I'm letting you go because I trust you," Mercer told Brynjolf under his breath. "But something about that girl bothers me, and I want you to keep an eye on her."

"You don't think she's working against the Guild, do you?"

"I don't know, but something doesn't add up. She's too good. And now she's doing jobs for the jarl? What kind of thief does that? Just watch yourself, and watch her."

Selene shouldered her gear and waited for Brynjolf near the ladder to the cemetery, then started up when he approached. They didn't talk much as they walked through the streets of Riften, but once they were outside the gates and heading up the north road, she said, "So he doesn't trust me, eh?"

"You heard?"

"His voice carries. Either that or he wanted me to hear."

"Well, don't worry, lass. _I_ trust you."

"You sure that's a good idea?" she teased.

"_I'm_ heavily armed, too."

The weather was clear and they made good time the first day, only stopping once to take care of some bandits who accosted them near Fort Greenwall a few miles north of Riften. Selene was encouraged watching Brynjolf fight. He was no Companion, but he could hold his own. Brynjolf, however, was utterly impressed with her abilities.

"Where did you learn to fight like that?" he asked when they were back on the road.

"Oh, here and there," she replied vaguely.

"Ugh, lass, you're killing me! Being mysterious is cute and all, but by the Eight, give me something, here."

"Aw, Brynjolf, do you think I'm cute?"

"You're adorable. Insufferable, but adorable."

"Oh, all right. I'll give you one if you give me one."

"Deal. What do you want to know?"

"What's really going on between you and Tonilia?"

"Nothing."

"So both of you keep saying, but nobody believes it. Come on, level with me. I'll keep it to myself. You said you trusted me."

He regarded her for a moment and then said, "I slept with Tonilia a few times about five years ago, but nothing is going on now. She started the rumor herself to make Vekel jealous."

"It's tearing poor Vekel up; you know that."

"Knowing Tonilia, I'd bet she'll tell him eventually. It's cold, I know, but that's her way."

"So are there any women in the Guild you haven't slept with?"

"You."

"Besides me, fool."

"That's another question, and it's your turn."

"Okay. I'm a Companion."

He furrowed his brow and grunted, almost as if he were disappointed. "Now, see, was that so hard?"

"You mean that's all you want?"

"Are you kidding? I want details."

"There really aren't many details. The Companions are based in Whiterun, and we're an order of warriors with history dating all the way back to Ysgramor. I joined them the day after the dragon attacked Helgen a couple of years ago, and I'm a member of the Inner Circle. Not much else to tell."

"Anyone special?"

"Two, actually, but for different reasons."

"Is that why you left?"

Selene shook her head. "No, we parted friends. It was just time for me to leave. I'm still a Companion, though. If they needed me, I'd go. I just don't live with them anymore." A howl arose in the distance, that dreaded howl that filled her with both terror and exhilaration. She could smell it; it was near the road and too close to avoid. This was a really bad time for a dragon. "Brynjolf, I think you're about to find out more about me than you wanted to know."

"What do you mean?"

The dragon howled again, closer now. "How do you feel about fighting a dragon?"

Brynjolf's eyes widened as the wyrm appeared over the next hill, swooping and diving, breathing frost over some unseen victim. "Sweet mother of Akatosh," he whispered.

"If I told you to wait here, would you do it?"

He hesitated for a moment, considering. Selene could smell his fear; he was terrified. But he shook his head. "I'm with you."

"Bryn, you don't have to prove anything to me."

"Let's go."

Selene nodded and continued down the road. As they topped the hill, she ducked behind a bush and nocked an arrow. Brynjolf followed and drew his sword. The dragon hadn't seen them yet; it was hovering, focusing its efforts on a wolf, and she was close enough for a good shot. She would only get one, though, before the dragon noticed and attacked them. Brynjolf was a thief, not a warrior, and though he had done well at Fort Greenwall, a handful of bandits didn't compare to battling a monster. He was smart, hopefully smart enough not to get himself killed. She would just have to keep an eye on him and do all she could to protect him.

"Promise me you won't do anything stupid, all right? We'll keep our distance if we can, and I'll shoot it with the bow. If we have to go in and fight, stay near its rear or under its wing, anywhere it can't get you with its teeth, because it _will_ eat you."

"Aye, away from the teeth. Got it."

Selene stood up, aimed, and shot the dragon, managing to get it in the throat. It screamed and abandoned the wolf, flying at them and sending a blast of frost over them. She prepared another arrow, hoping the dragon would stay in the air. If it wasn't on the ground, she could worry less about Brynjolf getting bitten in half. She sent the fire-enchanted arrow into its chest as it came back for another pass. With that, it shrieked and crashed, tumbling end over end until it came to a stop a hundred yards down the road. She drew another arrow and walked cautiously toward it, Brynjolf at her side, and the dragon lumbered toward her, snarling and snapping.

"Around that way," Selene directed Brynjolf, nodding her head to the left, and he moved around the dragon, giving it a wide berth. He was still scared, but he didn't falter when the dragon's gaze followed him. Selene took the opportunity provided by the momentary distraction and shot again, catching it in the throat once more.

"Curse you, _Dovahkiin,"_ the dragon groaned as its head flopped to the ground.

Brynjolf came back around the dragon and stood at her side. "I don't know whether to be relieved or—"

He stopped midsentence as the dragon started to burn and watched with awe as the flames engulfed Selene and she absorbed its soul. It was a male, and his name was Norokiizkendov. He cursed her even as his presence faded, refusing to give in even to the last second. She looked up at Brynjolf and said, "Or disappointed?" finishing his sentence.

"Aye. Part of me wanted to fight it. I must be out of my mind, but I think it would be a great story."

"Well, next time I'll make sure you get to help."

"So that day in the plaza when you said the person I was robbing might be the Dragonborn, you weren't kidding."

"No."

He stared at her for a moment, and she waited for the questions to start. They always asked them. _What does it feel like to absorb a soul? Can you feel all those souls in your head? Are you part dragon?_ Or they just looked at her like she was a god. But he didn't do either. He just doubled over and broke into laughter, chortling so hard he dropped to his knees and then all the way to the ground and lay on his back, tears flowing down his cheeks.

"What is so gods-damned funny?"

He finally stopped laughing and sat up, took her hand and pulled her to the ground next to him. "Delvin, Vekel, and I had a bet."

"What sort of bet?"

"I told them what you said that day in the marketplace, and we wagered on what was true. Del believed you were in the Dark Brotherhood, and Vekel said you were a mercenary. I picked Dragonborn." He started to laugh again, but he stopped suddenly. "You're _not_ in the Dark Brotherhood, are you? Because that would nullify the bet altogether."

"No, I'm not in the Dark Brotherhood. But the rest of it was true. You and Vekel will get to split Delvin's coin."

"You're not mad?"

"No, I think it's hilarious. How much did you bet?"

"A hundred Septims apiece. Wait, the _rest_ of it? You're a spy for Ulfric Stormcloak, too?"

"I've had a busy couple of years. You know, this was not the way I wanted all this to come out."

"So that's everything, then?"

She gave him a coy smile. "Not everything. Girl's gotta keep _some_ secrets, no? But do you still trust me?"

He studied her carefully, searching her face for something she couldn't comprehend, but he finally said, "Mercer sees something in you, and he fears it. I've never seen him afraid before. It does put me on edge, but I don't see what he does. You're an enigma; that much is certain. But I do feel I can trust you, and in our line of work, that's saying something."

"Well, now that we have that out of the way." Selene pushed herself up and went over to the dragon, where she retrieved a bone and a scale. Brynjolf stood back and watched as she walked through the skeleton looking for treasure, of which there was very little, only a few Septims, which she pocketed.

The sun was beginning to sink behind the mountain, so they decided to make camp. Brynjolf laid out bedrolls and built a fire just off the road while Selene took her bow and tracked down a rabbit for dinner. As Masser rose above them, they sat by the fire, eating rabbit, cheese and bread; sharing a bottle of mead; and talking, mostly about the skooma operation. Brynjolf hadn't asked much about it, and he was curious.

"Sarthis Idren, eh?" he mused. "I always knew there was something shifty about him. And I know shifty. He tried to join the Guild once, but Mercer wouldn't let him in. Said he didn't trust him."

"Wow, if he doesn't trust me and he let _me_ in, that doesn't say much for Sarthis, does it?" She took a sip of mead and handed him the bottle. "You owe me one; you know that, right?"

"One what?"

"I said I'd tell you something about myself if you told me something about yourself."

"Ah, but you didn't exactly tell me you were Dragonborn. It kind of came up all by itself."

"And then I told you I worked for Ulfric Stormcloak."

"No, I haven't slept with every woman in the Guild. I think Vex is a lesbian."

Selene chuckled. "But that wasn't what I was going to ask."

"All right. What do you want to know?"

"Where did you get that accent?"

He finished the mead and reached into his knapsack for another bottle, which he opened and handed to Selene. "It's an affectation."

"Are you serious?"

"When I was in my teens, Mercer had a visitor from another land. To this day, I've no idea where he was from. But I liked the way he talked, and more importantly, so did the lasses. So I tried it out. After a while, it became habit."

Selene laughed. "Brynjolf, you're so full of shit."

He stretched and groaned, then took the bottle from Selene and drank.

"I'll take the first watch," she offered. "Get some rest and I'll wake you later."

"I can take first watch if you're tired."

She shook her head. "I told you I don't sleep much. I'll be fine."

"All right, then." He took another drink of mead and handed her the bottle before crawling into his bedroll.

"Hey, Brynjolf."

"Aye?"

"Thanks for not looking at me like I was a freak when you found out I was Dragonborn."

"We're all freaks, lass."

"Aye, but it seems like I'm more of a freak than most."

Brynjolf chuckled. "You'd be surprised. Goodnight, love."

"Goodnight."

He closed his eyes, and it wasn't long before his breathing became regular. Selene watched him sleep. He was gorgeous, lying there so peacefully with the firelight setting his auburn tresses aglow. Had they been in a more sheltered location, she would have been tempted to climb into the bedroll with him—gods, she was tempted anyway. On some level she realized that was why she had asked him to come with her in the first place. But she knew better than to rush things with him.

The men in her life always disappointed her. Vilkas had struck her, and although she had forgiven him, sometimes she could still feel the sting of his hand as it hit her cheek and the ache in her heart at his betrayal. Ulfric's racism had come between them when he had refused to help her friend Athis, a dark elf. Ben had gotten himself killed and left her to fend for herself, totally alone for years. Really, the only man who had never disappointed her was Farkas, and Selene believed it was because neither of them had any illusions going into the relationship.

Thus, she would proceed with caution and make sure there were no illusions where Brynjolf was concerned. He was different from the others. He was a rogue and made no apologies for being one of the bad guys; but there was still good in him, honor and integrity that he probably didn't even know he had. She had never smelled a lie on him, even the night he had picked her pocket. But more than that, Selene felt a connection with him, an instant bond that was unlike anything she had ever experienced, even with the pack. There was the potential for something real with Brynjolf. As she watched him roll over in his sleep and mumble something as he got caught up in a dream, she knew that if for some reason that connection was cruelly broken, it might just break her for good.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	5. A Nightingale's Tale 5: Scariest Thing

A Nightingale's Tale 5

The Scariest Thing

"Maven Black-Briar wants to see you right away," Brynjolf told Selene one afternoon as she passed through the cistern after a job.

Selene's eyes widened. "What'd I do?"

He chuckled. "It's nothing like that, I assure you. She wants to talk business."

"What kind of business?"

"That's between you and Maven, and I prefer to keep it that way. I wouldn't keep her waiting, though."

Selene found Maven Black-Briar in an office on the second floor of the Bee and Barb. She looked severe, her hair pulled away from her face and her eyebrows tweezed in such a way that it always appeared she was angry. Then again, maybe she _was_ always angry. Her scent was cold, faint, almost as if she weren't even alive. This woman was in control of everything—_everything_—even her scent.

Maven looked her over. "Brynjolf seems to think you can do no wrong. You don't look so impressive to me."

"Looks can be deceiving."

"Is that confidence or arrogance I hear? Strange how often they're confused."

"Perhaps it's a bit of both, but I am the best at what I do."

"We'll see about that. It's been a long time since Brynjolf has sent me someone I can rely on."

"Sounds like you've lost faith in the Guild."

"Faith? I never _had_ faith in the Guild, or in anybody else, for that matter. All I care about is cause and effect. Did the job get done, and was it done correctly? There's no gray area. If it is done to my satisfaction, there's payment. If not, there are consequences."

"Understood. What do you need me to do?"

"You're to sabotage Honningbrew Meadery in Whiterun. Meet with Mallus Maccius at the Bannered Mare; he will fill you in on all the details. When the job is finished, search the office and look at the books. Sabjorn has been up to something and I want to know what. There's no way he could fund that meadery without help."

"You're thinking a silent partner?"

"Indeed. By the way, just in case I wasn't clear before, you butcher this and you will be sorry."

Selene nodded and left, and as she made her way back to Honeyside to pack, she found herself trembling. Brynjolf was afraid of Maven, as were most of the people she knew, but she had thought they were overreacting. Really, how bad could she be? How bad, indeed.

* * *

"Maven is sending me to Whiterun," Selene informed Mercer and Brynjolf.

"Yes," Mercer sneered. "You're doing the Honningbrew job, I assume. Just watch yourself and don't muck this up."

"What is it with you guys always warning me not to mess up?" she snapped with frustration. "Have I botched a single job since I joined you? I know what I'm doing, Mercer. What do I have to do to prove that to you?"

Brynjolf suppressed a chuckle, and Mercer glowered at him. "What are you laughing at?"

"She's right, you know. And with all due respect, you have been kind of hard on her."

"Fine, fine, I'll ease up," Mercer agreed. "Now, get going."

* * *

When Selene arrived in Whiterun, the sun was just coming up and Mallus most likely wasn't at the Mare, so she stopped at Breezehome to clean up and catch up with Lydia, then went to Jorrvaskr and visited the twins for a while. She met Mallus in the back room of the Mare late that afternoon. Mallus was in his thirties with tired eyes and stringy black hair. The Imperial had lived a hard life, and it showed on his face and in his raspy voice. "I'll keep this short, because we've got a lot to do," he said, not bothering with courtesies. "Honningbrew has a new line coming out called 'Honningbrew Reserve.' Sabjorn, the owner, is going to hold a tasting for Whiterun's captain of the guard, and we're going to poison the mead."

"We're killing the captain of the guard? Isn't that more the Dark Brotherhood's territory?"

"No, no. It won't be enough to harm the captain, just enough to notice. Sabjorn is the mark, not Sinmir."

"Do you have the poison?"

"No, that's the beauty of the whole plan. _Sabjorn_ has it, and he's going to give it to us. See, Honningbrew has a pest problem at the moment. Venomous skeevers have tunneled their way into the meadery. The whole town knows about it. It's not doing a lot for business, if you know what I mean."

Selene shuddered inwardly. She hated skeevers. "What do you need me to do?"

"Sabjorn needs somebody to help get rid of the pests. You're going to happen by and lend him a helping hand. He'll give you the poison. Use part of it on the skeevers' nest and dump the rest into the brewing vats."

"Why bother poisoning the nest?"

"Maven has plans for this place once Sabjorn is out of the way, so we don't want them coming back. The best place to start is in the meadery's basement. The skeevers dug tunnels between the meadery and the brewhouse. The entrance to the basement was boarded up, but I removed the boards. Now get going before that ass grows a brain and hires somebody else to do it."

Selene narrowed her eyes at him. "I can understand why Maven wants him out of business, but what do you get out of all this?"

"I made the mistake of borrowing money from Sabjorn, which he's allowing me to work off. And by 'work,' I mean be his slave and do every dirty job he can think of. I just want him out. Plus, Maven has said she'll put me in charge of the place once he's gone."

"All right, I'm on it."

An hour later, she walked into Honningbrew Meadery armed with two swords and a handful of healing potions and poison cures to find an aging Nord standing over a dead skeever. His lips were pursed, and it looked like he had been sucking on lemons. "What are you gawking at?" he demanded in a high-pitched, condescending tone. "Can you see I have problems here?"

"Something wrong?"

"Are you kidding me? Look at this place! I'm holding a tasting for the captain of the guard tomorrow morning, but if he sees the meadery in this state, I'll be ruined."

"Maybe I can help."

He frowned at her. "Oh, really. Just out of the kindness of your heart, I suppose. Well, don't expect to get paid until the job is done."

"Never mind, then." Selene turned to leave.

"Oh, very well," Sabjorn sighed. "I'll give you half now and the rest when the job's done. But I want those pests permanently eliminated."

"How do I go about that?"

"There is some poison near the entrance to the basement. Plant it in the vermin's nest, and it should stop them from ever coming back. My lazy, good-for-nothing assistant was supposed to handle this, but he seems to have gone missing. I suppose that's what I get."

"What do you mean?"

"I loaned him some money a while back, an amount he couldn't possibly hope to pay back, so he's working it off. Free labor for me! Although, I guess you get what you pay for."

He handed Selene a small bag of gold, and she placed it in one of her pockets without counting it. "I'm on my way."

"Don't come back until every one of those things is dead!"

Selene found the box of poison just inside the basement door, and she stuffed it in her pack. She would poison the nest, but she'd deal with the skeevers she came across the old-fashioned way. She got started right away; two of the critters were just coming through the hole where Mallus had removed the boards. They died easily by Selene's sword, and she stepped through the hole into the tunnel.

She came across a group of four around fifty yards in, and though she managed to kill them all, she got bitten in the process. She tried to ignore it and soldier on, but she didn't get much farther before dizziness and nausea took over and she dropped to her knees. Mallus had said the skeevers were venomous, and the swirling in Selene's stomach was proof. She retrieved a poison cure potion from her pack. Potions that neutralized poison were rare, and she was grateful to have come across several of them when she was fighting the Silver Hand. She swallowed the potion, grimacing at the bitter taste, and waited several long minutes before it started to work and her stomach settled. When she was finally able to stand without her belly doing flip-flops, she continued on her way.

She fought a nest of frostbite spiders in one cavern and a few more solitary skeevers before coming upon a room laid with bear traps. Eight or ten mead barrels were stored in the room, and a tripwire had been strung across the doorway to the next corridor. Funny, Mallus hadn't mentioned having set traps this far in. Selene doubted it had just slipped his mind, and she wondered why he had neglected to give her this information. She stepped around the bear traps and over the tripwire and moved on until the tunnel came to a sharp left turn. She peered carefully around the edge to see six skeevers entering the tunnel, heading her way. Swords at the ready, she stepped into the open and began mowing through the vermin, fighting back the nausea after one of them got close enough to bite her.

The narrow passage suddenly grew measurably hotter as a fireball whizzed past her head and hit the wall behind her. She looked up from the skeever she was fighting to see a man at the entrance to the next cavern, white-haired, wearing only a fur skirt and boots, and holding balls of blue and orange in his hands, which he proceeded to lob at her. Selene ducked the fire and lightning bolts, decapitated the last skeever, and charged the mage. He was quick, though, hovering inches above the ground and floating backward, just out of her reach. He hurled another fireball at her, catching her in what she had come to refer to as the "fireball shoulder." The leather Thieves Guild armor was more effective at blocking the heat than she would have thought, but it still hurt; that, combined with the nausea from the skeever bite, only served to make her angry.

"You're pissing me off!" she shouted at the mage as he flung another lightning bolt at her, which she ducked past. He backed away again, and Selene realized swords weren't going to kill this guy. She needed a ranged attack. She hadn't brought her bow, though, so she would use the only ranged weapon she had: her Thu'um.

"_Yol...toor shul!"_

The mage shrieked as he burst into flames. He careened around the room, arms flailing, screaming something about revenge, until he finally crumpled to the floor, still burning. Selene stayed back from him, surprised her Shout had caused such a conflagration, and looked around the room while he roasted. She found an alchemy lab, on which a foul-smelling concoction was brewing. It smelled vaguely of lamp oil, and she wondered if the mage had spilled some on himself, causing him to ignite so terribly. A chest held some poisons and a few gold pieces, and a journal lay on the floor next to the chest. Selene opened the book and read.

Her first thought when she had seen him was "madman," and oh, had she been right. His name was Hamelyn, and he had been exiled and imprisoned for something, although she couldn't figure out exactly what. Whatever it was, the people of Whiterun and the College of Winterhold thought he was evil and insane, and he was well on his way to proving them right. He had been breeding the creatures, which he called "venomfang," in an effort to build an army. An army of venomfang skeevers to destroy Whiterun and Winterhold. She shuddered at the notion.

Farkas had said once that everybody has a weakness. Frostbite spiders were his. Selene supposed skeevers were hers. The thought of hundreds of giant, venomous rodents running through the streets of Whiterun was enough to give her nightmares.

Even without an enhanced sense of smell it wouldn't have been hard to find the nest. The area behind the alchemy table reeked of rotten meat, feces, and musk. She stepped gingerly through the nest, sprinkling the poison throughout, taking care to leave plenty for the brewing vats, and got out as quickly as she could. She was going to take a very long, hot bath after this was over.

There wasn't enough of Hamelyn left to search, so Selene took the doorway to the next tunnel, which led to the basement of the brewhouse. The floor here was also laid with bear traps, which she slipped around before taking the stairs up to the main floor. One long room was lined on either side with three massive brewing vats, and a balcony provided access each of them. She ascended the stairs and dropped poison in each of the vats, then raided a chest tucked away in a corner for a few pieces of gold.

Back on the main floor, she ran into Mallus, who had just come in with an empty keg. "Is the job done?" he asked her.

Selene nodded. "Take your pick."

Mallus took the keg to the nearest vat and filled it with the poisoned Honningbrew Reserve. "Let's go," he said. "The captain of the guard is waiting."

The morning sun strained to shine through the overcast sky as Selene followed Mallus back to the meadery, where an impatient Sabjorn stood behind the counter. "Well?" he asked as Mallus set the keg up.

"Job's done."

"Well, it's about time. Captain Sinmir is already here, and I had to stall him far too long. You'll have to wait until after the tasting for your payment. If I pay you at all. What took you so long?" He didn't wait for an answer, just turned his back and waved to Sinmir.

Selene went to the back of the room to stand with Mallus as Sinmir got up from his seat and approached the counter. He nodded at Selene. "Hail, Stormblade."

"Well met, Sinmir—Captain. Good to see you."

Refusing to be upstaged, Sabjorn said, "It's lovely to have you here today, Captain. It's such an honor that you will be the first to try our new Honningbrew Reserve. I think it will be quite pleasing to your palate."

"Come now, Sabjorn, this is mead! It's not some wine to be tasted and savored. Especially not for a Nord." He drew a mugful of mead, raised his cup in toast, and chugged it. When he was finished, his brow furrowed with a confused expression. He looked at the empty cup and up at Sabjorn as the color drained from his face. "By the Nine, what—what is in this?" he choked out.

"I don't understand. What's wrong?"

Sinmir chucked the mug to the floor. "Sabjorn, you assured me this place was clean!" He groaned and placed a hand on his stomach, taking several deep breaths before speaking again. "I should have known better than to trust this place after it's been riddled with filth. I'll see to it that you're in irons for the rest of your days."

"I beg you, Captain. This is not what it seems."

Captain Sinmir crossed the room and stood before Mallus. "You're in charge until I can sort this all out. I'm taking Sabjorn to the dungeon, and after my stomach settles, he's going to give me some answers!" He turned to Sabjorn. "Now, move."

Sabjorn stood fast. "I assure you, this is all just a huge misunderstanding. Surely something can be done."

Sinmir drew his sword. "I said _move!"_

Mallus offered a jibe at Sabjorn as he followed the captain out the door, and then he looked over at Selene. "I don't think that could have gone better!"

"I almost feel sorry for the guy, but you were right—he's an ass. He actually bragged about how he got you to work for free."

"Okay, what else do you need from me?"

"I need to look at his books."

"Maven's looking for Sabjorn's private partner, eh? Here's the key to his desk. He keeps most of his papers stashed there."

Selene took the key but stayed put, leveling a glare at Mallus.

"What?"

"You forgot to mention the lunatic living in the tunnels."

He looked at her sheepishly and said, "I thought it was better to leave out some of the details. Didn't want to risk you walking away."

"I wouldn't have walked away, and I would have been better prepared. Did you know he was breeding an army?"

Mallus's eyes widened. "You're joking."

"No, he wanted to raise an army of venomous skeevers to destroy Whiterun and the College of Winterhold."

"It's a sick world," he muttered. "But you did us a favor, getting rid of him. Now I don't have to spend more gold hiring somebody else to do it."

Selene went upstairs to Sabjorn's bedroom to have a look around. She picked up a few pieces of jewelry and some gold she found, considering it compensation for killing Hamelyn, something she doubted Maven would pay extra for. She also pocketed a very nice golden Honningbrew decanter that was probably worth more than everything else she picked up. The books didn't show much, but she did find a promissory note stashed away in a dresser. There was no name on the note, just the cloaked-dagger symbol she had seen at Goldenglow. The silent partner assured Sabjorn in the note that they would keep Maven and her "cronies" at bay. It seemed to Selene that the silent partner underestimated Maven and her cronies.

* * *

Snow in the mountains and two pesky dragons slowed Selene down, and what should have been a three-day trip took five. It was nearly suppertime when she arrived in Riften, and she made straight for the Bee and Barb. Better to talk to Maven and get it over with before going home. She was exhausted, and if she stopped at home to put her things down, she might just plop into bed and fall asleep.

"I trust you have good news for me?" Maven challenged her.

"Everything went according to plan. Sabjorn is locked up, and Mallus is in charge of Honningbrew. Oh, and I found this." She handed her the promissory note.

"This doesn't tell me anything," Maven muttered as she looked over the document. "What is this little symbol?"

"I don't know, but I've seen it before. It was on a document at Goldenglow, too."

The hard-nosed businesswoman narrowed her eyes. "Well, whoever they are, they'll regret starting a war with me. Anything else?"

"Aye, there was a mage living in the tunnels between the meadery and the brewhouse."

Maven raised her already lofty eyebrows. "A mage? Whatever for?"

"He was breeding the skeevers with the intention of turning them loose on Whiterun. I took care of him."

"Good. You look as though you've been on the road for days."

"I have."

"Take the night off, for the Divines' sake take a bath, and then get that document to the Guild first thing tomorrow." She picked up a sword that was lying on her desk. "As for your payment, I think you will find this more than adequate for your services."

It was an iron sword with some sort of enchantment applied to it, and Selene didn't think it was adequate at all, especially after the confrontation with Hamelyn. She was glad she'd picked up a few things while she was at the meadery. "Thank you, Maven," was all she said before she turned and left the office.

With anyone else, she might have complained about the paltry recompense but not with Maven. This was a woman who didn't tolerate any bullshit, and Selene had to admit she liked her style. She was dangerous, though, someone you watched your step around. But more, she wielded a tremendous amount of power, too much for a woman in her position. She thought about what Brynjolf had said. _One word from her, and you could spend the rest of the Fourth Era in prison. Or end up floating in Lake Honrich._

The Companions had a running gag: _How do you get over fear of the dark? Be the scariest thing in it._ Selene had tackled dragons, falmer, hordes of undead, and armies of Imperials; and she firmly believed she was scarier than all of them. Even skeevers only gave her a brief pause. Maven Black-Briar, however, might just be the scariest of them all.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	6. A Nightingale's Tale 6: Going-Away Pres

A Nightingale's Tale 6

Going-Away Present

Selene went home, cleaned up, and got some rest as Maven had instructed. The next morning, she went to the Scorched Hammer to sell the sword Maven had given her.

Balimund, the smith who owned the shop, was working at the forge, while his adoptive son Asbjorn hammered away at a piece of armor. She knew Asbjorn, who had also lived at Honorhall, although he usually didn't have much to say beyond hello. Balimund, however, was a different story, and Selene adored him. The friendly blacksmith was in his mid-forties, burly, with dirty blond hair. She suspected he was handsome under all the soot that covered his face, but she had never seen him cleaned up. Balimund looked the sword over, tested the weight, and even went so far as to make a small cut in his arm to test the enchantment. "Hmm," he muttered. "It has a fear enchantment on it."

"Is that how you tell? You try it on yourself? Just like eating an alchemy ingredient to see what it does."

"Exactly. It can be unpleasant, though."

"I would imagine. At least with alchemy, you have a halfway decent chance of a good effect. All you get when you test a weapon enchantment is injured."

He chuckled and reached for his strongbox, from which he counted out a rather large amount of coins. "I'll give you two hundred sixty Septims for it."

"Really? It was worth more than I thought."

"Just because it's iron doesn't mean it's not a nice sword. I've got a supply of ebony arrows if you're interested."

"Aye. How many you do you have?"

"Enough to make an even trade."

"Deal."

Balimund went inside the shop for a few minutes while Selene engaged in a strained conversation with Asbjorn and emerged with a load of about a hundred arrows.

"Balimund, that's way more than two hundred sixty Septims' worth."

"I'm going to ask you for a favor, too."

"What do you need?"

"I need fire salts. My forge relies on a special recipe for flame, which includes fire salts. I'm running out, and without them, the forge will die."

"I can find you some."

"It would be much appreciated. Ten pinches of fire salts should be enough to bring the forge back to life. Of course, I'll reimburse you for any you buy from an alchemist."

When Selene turned away from the Scorched Hammer, she caught Brynjolf watching her, and her heart soared. There he was in his stall, pure sex in a gray surcoat, smiling and waving her over. This was getting ridiculous. It was bad enough that she thought about him all the time, but when she saw him for the first time after a trip, it was all she could do not to jump up and down and giggle—or worse, throw herself into his arms and cover his face with kisses. She refused to fawn all over any male, but it was getting harder and harder to do. It was with monumental effort that she gave him a pleasant, not-too-excited smile and moseyed across the plaza. "Morning."

"Welcome back."

"I thought you were still thinking about closing the stall."

"Eh, the weather was nice. Besides, what better place to wait for a beautiful woman than in the marketplace? She's bound to go shopping sometime."

"Did she show up yet?" Selene asked innocently.

"Oh, I thought I saw her walk by a while ago. Went to see the smith first, though. I was quite disappointed. What's he got that I haven't got?"

"He buys swords, for one thing. I'm sure she will come to you when she needs more Falmer Blood Elixir."

"I'll have to stock up, then," he chuckled. "So. Word on the street is that poor Sabjorn found himself in Whiterun's prison."

"There was more to it than just putting Sabjorn out of the way, though. The symbol on the documents from Goldenglow was also involved."

Brynjolf's smile faded. "That's beyond coincidence."

"I can't figure if they're trying to take down the Guild or Maven."

"Maybe both. But the Guild can't afford to lose her confidence."

Selene thought about what Maven had said about putting her faith in no one. "So what do we do?"

"Mercer says he thinks he's found a way to identify the owner of our mysterious symbol. Go talk to him; see what he has to say."

"On my way, then." She scratched him under the chin, turned and headed toward the Guild's cemetery entrance.

"I hate to see you leave, but I love to watch you go!" he called after her.

* * *

Selene found Mercer standing at his desk, paging through a journal. "Ah, you're back," he said when she approached. "It seems the symbol on the documents you recovered from Goldenglow is still a mystery. I've consulted several of my contacts, but no one can identify it."

"I found the same one at Honningbrew. Brynjolf and I were thinking somebody is trying to bring us down by angering Maven Black-Briar."

"Hmm," he groaned. "Very clever.

"Maybe we should recruit them."

He narrowed his eyes. "Don't mistake my admiration for complacency. Whoever this is, they're well-funded, driven, and patient. And they're going to pay dearly."

"If we can ever find out who they are."

Mercer smiled, but even his smile looked like a grimace. "Well, it turns out that even after all their posturing and planning, they've made a mistake. The Goldenglow document refers to a 'Gajul-Lei,' which is an old alias used by one of my contacts."

"Where do I find him?"

"Solitude. Gajul-Lei is an alias for Gullum-Ei, our inside man at the East Empire Company. Do you know the East Empire Company?"

"Sure, it's a shipping company. They have their hands in just about everything, and the Emperor endorses them personally."

"I'm betting Gullum-Ei acted as a liaison for the sale of Goldenglow. If so, he can finger our buyer."

"Am I to question him or bring him back here?"

"Just shake him down. Find out what he's been up to."

"Can I have a couple of days?"

"We can't afford a couple of days. This is important."

"Come on, Mercer. The trip back from Whiterun took almost twice as long as it should have because of snow. I'm worn out. Do you think Gullum-Ei's going somewhere?"

Mercer glared at her for a moment before saying, "I want you back on the road tomorrow."

"Fine. Once I get to Solitude, where do I look for him?"

"Talk to Brynjolf with any questions you have."

Selene started to protest, but she'd rather talk to Brynjolf than Mercer anyway. She had never gotten over the feeling that something about Mercer was off, and being on the receiving end of one of his icy glares made her want to run home and take a bath. Thus, she turned and left his desk. She stopped in the Flagon on the way out and sold the items she had stolen while she was in Whiterun to Tonilia, except for the Honningbrew decanter, which she took to Delvin. He paid her more for the decanter than Tonilia had given her for all the other items combined. Skeevers, crazy mage, and snow notwithstanding, it had been a very lucrative trip.

"Got more work if you're interested," Delvin said as he paid her for the decanter.

"Probably not such a good idea for now. I'm heading out there to talk to one of Mercer's contacts, and he'll want me to get back here as soon as possible.

"Solitude? Who you meeting with? Gullum-Ei?"

"You know him?"

"Of course. Slimy little bastard. Even slimier than me."

"You're not slimy, Delvin."

"Aw, you're makin' me blush. Oi, if you happen to find yourself in the East Empire Company's warehouse and can make it into the office, I've love to have a copy of their shippin' map. Always a handy little thing to have around. Don't make a special trip, especially if Mercer wants you to come right back."

"I'll see what I can do. If I don't get it on this trip, I'm sure I'll be there again."

Delvin nodded with satisfaction. "Good girl."

* * *

"I knew you couldn't stay away," Brynjolf quipped when returned to his stall.

"Mercer sent me back to you."

"Any excuse for a visit." Selene only scowled at him, and he instantly went from playful to earnest. "What's wrong?"

"He just irks me, that's all. He's sending me to Solitude, and he's not giving me time to breathe before heading out again. Then, he wouldn't give me any information; he just said come to you. Sometimes I could swear he's purposely setting me up to fail."

"Yet you never do. Okay, start at the beginning."

"Mercer found out that the broker mentioned in Goldenglow's promissory note is an alias for a contact of his named Gullum-Ei."

"Gullum-Ei?" he repeated incredulously. "That Argonian couldn't find his tail with both hands!"

"Then somebody's probably pulling his strings. Mercer thinks Gullum-Ei may be able to identify the owner of the cloaked-dagger symbol. He wants me to talk to him and see what I can turn up. He said he was in Solitude, but he wouldn't even tell me where to find him once I got there."

"Do you know your way around Solitude?"

"Aye, I'm actually friends with Jarl Elisif and her steward."

"Of course you are," Brynjolf chuckled. "Gullum-Ei is a fence, and he operates primarily out of the Winking Skeever. You can find Gulum-Ei there much of the time. If not, Sorex Vinius should be able to point you in the right direction."

"Can I expect trouble from Gullum-Ei?"

"You've got your work cut out for you with that one. He's one of the most stubborn lizards I've ever met. You'll probably have to bribe him. If that fails, follow him. He's probably in way over his head, and you might be able to use that as leverage."

"If he's helping this person try to bring the Guild down, it's a serious betrayal."

"Aye, and he's going to owe us. In addition to his fencing job, he has a cushy position with the East Empire Company, so we'll make good use of that debt."

"So we don't want him dead."

"Definitely not. Just keep on his tail for now, then return to the Guild and get the information to Mercer. You might also take a look around and see if he's been holding out on us and has more stashed away than he claims. When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow morning. Or later tonight. It depends on whether I can sleep or not."

"Why do you have so much trouble sleeping, lass?" he asked with concern.

Selene shrugged. "I'm used to it."

"Well, try to get some rest today and have a safe trip. Keep Gullum-Ei alive, but remind him who we are."

"Will do."

Selene stopped at Marise Aravel's stand and bought a pheasant breast for her dinner, then headed back to Honeyside, lay down on her bed, and brooded. When she went to Whiterun, she couldn't wait to get back to town so she could see Brynjolf, and she barely got to spend more than a few minutes with him before being pushed back on the road. Solitude was in the opposite corner of Skyrim, and it would be weeks before she saw him again. It wasn't like she knew his intentions anyway. It was obvious from gossip that Brynjolf slept around, but he was playing very coy with her. She didn't get it. His scent suggested he was attracted to her, but he never did more than flirt. What was she doing wrong? Maybe she should just tell him how she felt. Well, she'd have plenty of time on the Solitude trip to mull over what she was going to say, or if she was going to say anything at all. But she was really going to miss him.

After a while, she dragged herself out of bed and put the pheasant breast on to cook. She packed for her trip while the breast was cooking and finished up just as the sun was setting. She pulled the breast off the fire and threw it on a plate, along with some bread and cheese. As she was cleaning the table after dinner, she picked up Brynjolf's scent, and he knocked on the door.

Selene opened the door. "Hey, what's —"

He stepped toward her, took her face in his hands, and placed his lips on hers. Desire surged into his scent, and Selene's heart felt as if it would burst from her chest. She wrapped her arms around his waist and opened her mouth to the kiss, gasping with pleasure as his tongue met hers. The slow, lingering kiss made her knees weak, and she leaned into him as much for support as closeness. She could smell the blood rushing through his veins and feel his heart hammering in sync with hers, both racing, providing a steady backbeat. The world fell away until there was nothing but her and Brynjolf, arms intertwined, bodies touching, mouths fused together in the sweetest, most intimate kiss she'd ever had.

"Wow," he whispered when they reluctantly withdrew. He rested his forehead against hers.

"Wow," she agreed. She realized they were still standing on the threshold when one of the city guards walked by. "Come in."

"I can't," he replied regretfully. "Sapphire said Mercer wanted to see me right away, but I couldn't let you get away again without kissing you goodbye."

"I'm glad you didn't."

"Take care on your trip, and come back to me. All right?"

"I will."

He kissed her again, his lips so warm as they caressed hers, and Selene inwardly cursed Mercer Frey for insisting that Brynjolf get to the cistern as soon as possible. As he turned to go, she grinned. "Hey, watching you go isn't too shabby, either."

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	7. A Nightingale's Tale 7: Messages

A Nightingale's Tale 7

Messages

The weather was kind, and Selene didn't see a bandit, dragon, or wild animal on the trip. Nonetheless, it took her nearly a week to get to Solitude. Exhausted, she walked into the Winking Skeever just before midnight on her sixth day of travel. Ulfric would have said she should start riding a horse, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it except in an emergency. There were too many logistics to worry about, not to mention that most horses were skittish around her. They could smell a predator, and her inner beast was never far from the surface.

She looked around the tavern, but there were no Argonians present, and she sighed with relief. She needed a night's rest before dealing with Gullum-Ei. Satisfied that the mission could wait until morning, she went to the bar.

"Well met, Selene," said Corpulus Vinius.

"Well met. Do you have any rooms?"

"For you, always." Selene dropped ten coins on the counter, and Corpulus led her to her room and brought her hot water to wash with.

After she cleaned up, she lay down on the bed and closed her eyes, drifting off within minutes. She dreamed of the hunt, as usual, but this dream was different. She was chasing her prey through the woods when a man appeared out of thin air, right in front of her. Selene skidded to a stop so as not to bowl him over. He was extremely tall, towering over her by more than a foot, with rippling muscles; he carried a spear and wore a loin cloth, boots, and a helmet made out of a deer skull. Upon closer inspection, Selene thought that maybe it wasn't a helmet at all but actually his head. Then she realized who was standing before her. It was Hircine.

She bowed her head, and he reached out and lifted her chin. "Look at me, Dragonborn." When she met eyes with him he said, "You will be given a choice soon. She would try to force you to make that choice, but we _all_ all must make concessions for the Dragonborn."

Selene was in beast form, so she couldn't ask him who "she" was, but she had a feeling he wouldn't tell her anyway. She had been given messages by higher beings before, and they tended to talk in riddles. As she was pondering the notion, the Lord of the Hunt faded from view and she was once again alone in the woods.

She woke the next morning surprisingly refreshed. Gullum-Ei wasn't in the Winking Skeever yet, so Selene had breakfast and then took some time to go see Jarl Elisif and Falk Firebeard. One of her favorite things about being a member of the Thieves Guild was the timetable. Much of her work was done at night, and she was long used to staying up late. Most of her associates also worked by night and slept in, so she had more time to visit her more legitimate friends.

She got caught up on their lives while they lunched together. Falk was still sneaking around with Thane Bryling and pretending nobody noticed, and Elisif was still grieving her husband's death. She hated Ulfric with a passion, but she was so sweet and gentle that the animosity didn't even show in her. Sometimes, however, when they were talking politics or even their love lives (or lack thereof), she would say, "Ugh, Selene, I'm so glad you got away from that monster." Selene would then reply that Ulfric wasn't a monster and that he regretted killing Torygg, but Elisif wouldn't hear it. Thus, they tried to keep to more benign subjects in their conversations. Today, Elisif was intrigued by the prospect of a new love in Selene's life.

"But you've been in love before," Elisif suggested.

"I haven't."

"You loved Ulfric."

"Not like this."

"Does he feel the same way?"

"I don't know. He's interested, but I just don't know _how_ interested."

"What's his name?"

"It's Brynjolf."

Falk, who had been concentrating on his roast chicken, looked up at her sharply. "Not the same Brynjolf who is in the Thieves Guild."

"You know him?"

"He has spent time in Solitude's jail. I know you have your own mind and I couldn't talk you out of a relationship with him, but just be careful, Selene. Rumor has it that the Thieves Guild is dying, and that will make its members desperate. You don't know what the man is capable of."

"You're right. You can't talk me out of it. But don't worry, Falk. You know I can take care of myself."

Elisif placed a hand on Selene's arm. "I can't say I condone your relationship with a thief, but I hope it works out for you, dear. You deserve to be happy."

"So do you, Elisif. You should move on."

"And who is there to be interested in? My choices are rather limited."

"I'm not saying you should find somebody else, only that you should let Torygg go. Although surely you know that Bolgeir is in love with you."

Falk choked on his wine.

"He's...what?" Elisif asked. "No, he's just sworn to protect me. That's why he never leaves my side."

"Sure, it is," Selene uttered dryly.

"Falk?"

The steward leveled a glare at Selene and said, "Who better to guard you with his life than someone who loves you?"

Elisif's eyes widened, and she looked even more helpless than normal. "I—I don't know what to think about this."

"Nothing needs to change," Falk assured her. "He never has to know about this conversation."

"Perhaps that would be best. For now, anyway."

After having lunch with the jarl and her steward, Selene went back to the Winking Skeever, where she found Gullum-Ei sitting at a table in a nook near the bar.

"Well, what have we here?" the Argonian drawled. "Your scent and your armor suggest that you're with Mercer Frey's outfit, but that can't be right. I specifically told him I would no longer work with you."

Selene fixed him with a stare and remained silent. Being small for a Nord, and young and pretty, people often underestimated her. When she showed them what a formidable fighter she was or simply turned her attitude on them, they usually crumbled. She was also very good at the staredown.

Gullum-Ei, however, simply stared back.

She refused to give in, though, and the staring contest went on for several minutes before the Argonian gave up.

"Time is money, little girl. Why don't you stop the games and tell me what you want?"

"I want to talk about Goldenglow Estate."

"Never heard of it."

"Really? From what I've heard, you brokered the deal."

"Well, your sources are wrong. I don't deal in real estate. Mercer knows that."

"Aye, and that's why he was so surprised when your name cropped up on the bill of sale. Gajul-Lei."

His eyes widened and he paused, but he regained his composure quickly. "It must have been someone using my alias, then, because I know nothing about it."

She took a step toward him and loomed, her arms crossed. "If you can smell the Thieves Guild on me, then I'm betting you can identify other scents as well. Am I right?"

Gullum-Ei cleared his throat and stuttered, "Y-you're a werewolf."

"That's right, and I can smell a lie. Lying to the Guild can be very dangerous, Gullum-Ei."

"You won't kill me. I'm too valuable to the Guild."

"You think so? This is a major betrayal, and Mercer is furious. The East Empire Company is a big organization, and I'm sure we could find somebody to replace you, so don't get the impression that you're indispensible."

"Wait, did you say _Goldenglow?_ It's starting to come back to me now. But you can't expect me to just give you information free of charge."

"What do you want?"

"I have a client who is particularly fond of Firebrand Wine. It's very rare, but I've heard there is a case in the Blue Palace. Bring it back to me, and I'll tell you what you want to know."

Selene shook her head. "I don't think so."

"That's the deal. Take it or leave it."

"They know me at the palace. I'm friends with the jarl and the steward. I can't just go in and steal something."

"Then be creative! That's my offer."

"Remember the part about you being dispensable?"

"Oh, come on. For a thief such as you, this should be nothing."

Selene glared at him. "Fine." She turned and left the tavern, furious that she'd let Gullum-Ei get the best of her.

If it were anybody else in Solitude, Selene would have no qualms about stealing from them, but Elisif was a friend who trusted her. Maybe she could talk Falk into giving her the case, or at least selling it to her. He already knew there was more going on in her life than the Stormcloaks and the dragons. Maybe he would understand.

She found him in his usual spot, standing to Elisif's left, and he smiled when she approached. "I didn't expect to see you back so soon."

"I need your help. Can we talk somewhere?"

"Aye." He excused himself from the court, and Selene followed him to his chambers. "What's the matter?" he asked after he had closed his door.

"I've been told you have a case of Firebrand Wine in the palace."

"Really? I wish I had known sooner."

"I'm on a mission, trying to get information from someone, but he won't deal with me unless I bring him that wine."

"He sent you to steal it," he guessed.

"Aye."

"And you decided to talk to me instead. Thank you for that."

"I won't steal from you and Elisif, Falk. I can't tell you the details of the mission, but it's extremely urgent that I get my hands on that wine. I understand you can't just give it to me, so I'll be glad to pay you for it."

"Who is this contact of yours?"

"You know I can't tell you that."

He thought about it for a moment, and Selene regarded him with open, honest eyes. He finally sighed, nodded, and said, "I'll get it for you. Wait here."

He left the room, and Selene sat down at his desk, turning away so as to protect his privacy, although it did little to help. Bryling's scent was everywhere in the room, not just her base scent but hints at desire and ecstasy. She felt bad for them. They felt they had to keep their relationship a secret, not from Elisif but from Erikur. He would crucify them if he found out.

Falk returned ten minutes later with the case of wine and put it on his desk.

"What do I owe you?" Selene offered.

"Nothing, my friend."

"After our conversation at lunch, I didn't know if you would still consider me a friend. The fact that I'm in the Guild might have gone over Elisif's head, but you're smarter than that."

"I cannot say I agree with your choices, but aye, I still consider you a friend, not just to me but to this city. You have saved Solitude more than once."

"But I also helped _sack_ Solitude."

"And then you helped Sybille get rid of a nest of vampires and prevented Queen Potema from resurrecting and destroying us all. Giving you this case of wine is the least I can do."

"Thank you, Falk." She kissed him on the cheek, then took the wine and made her way back to the Winking Skeever.

When she walked into the inn and set the case on Gullum-Ei's table, he nodded with satisfaction. He reached into a knapsack under the table and pulled out three soul gems. "Here. For your trouble."

"Wait, you're trying to bribe _me_ now?"

"Not at all. I gave you a job to do, and you did it."

"Aye, but I don't want soul gems. I want information."

"This buyer never let me see a face. I think it was a woman, but sometimes it's hard to tell with all that armor. She asked me to be liaison for the Goldenglow Deal."

"But why?"

"I believe she has a personal vendetta against Mercer Frey."

"What else?"

"Look, that's all I know. You're in the same business as me; you know that we rarely give our names, or if we do, it's an alias. She didn't tell me anything I didn't need to know."

"And no doubt paid you to keep your mouth shut."

"Let's just say I won't go hungry for a while. Now, if you'll excuse me."

Selene left his table and went to the bar for a tankard of mead. She chatted with Corpulus as she drank, always keeping one eye on Gullum-Ei. After a couple of hours, she realized he wasn't going anywhere with her in the inn, so she left. She didn't go far, just crouched in the shadows and waited for him to emerge. It was another hour later, just after sunset, when he finally came out of the inn. Selene followed him through town, out the city gates, and down the road, staying as far back as she could manage without losing him to avoid him picking up her scent. He stopped every once in a while and looked back, but Selene could hide with the best of them, and he didn't notice her. He walked past the stables and down the hill to the docks, where he disappeared into a heavy door set into the rocks below the city and evidently locked the door behind him because she couldn't get in. It was a tough lock and Selene broke a couple of picks, but she finally got the door open and slipped in before any guards noticed her.

Swiftly and silently, she followed Gullum-Ei's scent. She started to follow him through the maze of shelves stacked with merchandise, but a ramp caught her eye. It led to the top of the shelves, and she might be able to tail him from an elevated position and avoid any guards she might come across. Thus, she took the ramp and followed him halfway through the warehouse before she could go no further and had to drop to the floor. She slipped past the guards and stayed in the shadows as best she could, and she looked up to see the office on the second level. The Argonian walked past a staircase leading up to the office and down to a lower level and greeted a guard who stood on the landing. The guard's back was to the stairs and she would have no trouble going up or down, but getting past her on the path was going to be a pain because it was narrow and there was very little shadow. Killing the guard would attract too much attention, so she would just have to do the best she could to stay hidden.

The problem was taken out of her hands when Gullum-Ei turned and came back toward the stairs. He took them down, and Selene tailed him to a passage behind the shelves and through a door into a cave. He stepped over a tripwire and she followed suit, resolving to proceed with even more caution. If there was one trap, there were probably more.

There were no East Empire Company guards in this area, only bandits, and Selene had no qualms about killing them and looting their bodies. The Argonian meandered down the winding wooden path, which was flanked by rock on one side and water on the other, stopping to chat with a couple, one of whom was swimming, before moving on. Selene could sneak by the swimmer if he was alone, but there was no way to avoid the one on land. Thus, after Gullum-Ei left them, she drew her daggers, snuck up behind the mercenary and silently slit her throat, then pulled her into a nook nearby that contained a small fire, cooking pot, and a few barrels. She laid the bandit down gently so as not to disturb the swimmer, who remained oblivious.

The path finally led to a small grotto, and Gullum-Ei stopped there and started up a conversation with another bandit. There were two more on the path, and there would be no sneaking behind them. Besides, killing three people in such close proximity to the Argonian would give him a clear message. They were far enough away for her to use the bow, and she dispatched the two on the path with no trouble. The third bandit, however, charged her. Selene drew her daggers and danced with her. The woman wielded a sword but had no shield. She was also wearing heavy, steel armor, inhibiting her movements. She took a wide swing as Selene stepped outward, and the blade connected with her hip. She grunted in pain and thrust her burning dagger at the bandit's throat. The cut it made was shallow, but it set her hair on fire, and she screamed and jumped into the water. Selene drew her bow and was ready when the woman emerged, and she sent an arrow through her head.

She placed a hand on her hip to inspect the damage, but there was none. Again, the leather Thieves Guild armor seemed to prevent more damage than her heavier steel. Or maybe the bandit just wasn't all that good.

Selene shouldered her bow and walked into the grotto, where Gullum-Ei stood among dozens of crates and chests. He was terrified, having just watched Selene take out three of his protectors. She wasn't surprised to see the stash; Brynjolf had figured he was holding out on the guild. But she was feeling peevish, so she decided to play. She drew the flaming dagger and balanced the point on her index finger, catching it deftly when it started to fall. "Well, what have we here?" she said, imitating his first words to her.

"Please," he whined desperately. "This is not what it seems."

"Then what is it?"

"It's a—well, it's—did you ever—please don't tell Mercer. He'll have me killed."

Selene chuckled. "You're still assuming that _I'm_ going to let you live."

"What can I do?"

"How much is all that worth?" she asked, pointing to the crates and chests.

"Not as much as you would think."

"Gullum-Ei, I'm getting tired of playing this game with you. Give me what you owe the Guild—now—and tell me the name of the anonymous buyer of Goldenglow Estate."

"I don't have that much gold just laying around."

"Lying again."

He groaned, pulled a key from his pocket, and unlocked one of the smaller chests. Selene looked over his shoulder to see that the chest was full of gold pieces.

"That oughtta do it," she mused.

"How will you carry all that?"

She looked around for a container that wouldn't be too big and heavy for her to carry and found a potato sack resting against the wall. She dumped the potatoes on the ground and said, "Fill this up. I'm stronger than I look."

He filled the bag and handed it to her, and she had to admit it was going to be a struggle to get it back to Riften. She'd have to hire a carriage. For now, she stuffed it in her knapsack and said, "Now, what about the buyer?"

"It's Karliah."

"Who's Karliah?"

"You mean they never told you about Karliah? She is responsible for killing Mercer's predecessor."

"And you're helping her?"

"I was afraid for my life."

"And here you are again, no? Do you have any documentation?"

Gullum-Ei opened another chest and rummaged through its contents. He produced another deed for the sale of Goldenglow and handed it to her. "This is all I have, I swear it."

"Where is she now?"

"I don't really know. I think she must have known you would come because she said she was going 'where the end began.'"

"Where the end began. All right, now listen to me. I'll be going back and forth between Riften and Solitude many times in the foreseeable future, and whenever I'm here, I'm going to check on your operation. As long as you keep our arrangement on the up and up, you're safe. But I'd better not see that you're holding out on the Guild again, or I _will_ kill you. And don't even think about moving, because you know I can find you."

"I understand. Say, if you're in town and need to offload some merchandise, I'll be glad to fence for you."

"I'll keep that in mind." She turned to leave but stopped and looked back. "Remember what I said, Gullum-Ei. You can't hide from me. Pull this crap again, and I'll sniff you out and rip you to shreds."

Selene moved swiftly and silently back through the tunnel, and she managed to bypass the swimmer again without notice. Navigating the warehouse wouldn't be so easy because there was no ramp to the upper level at this end. She would have to simply keep to the shadows and hope she didn't get noticed. When she came up the stairs to the main walkway, the guard was still facing the opposite direction, and Selene crept around her and ascended the staircase and slope until she reached the office. Finding the shipping map was effortless; someone had left it on the desk. She rolled it up and stuffed it in her knapsack as best she could without crushing it among all that gold, and then she picked up a few more small sacks of coin that were sitting around the room just waiting to be stolen.

When she came out of the office, she went around to the back to see what kind of drop she'd have if she decided to jump. The slope was steep, but it had a few good handholds, so Selene decided to climb down instead of braving the stairs and going past the guard a third time. She might not believe in luck, but there was no sense courting disaster. She climbed down to the main level and snuck past a couple of guards, and with only one more guard between her and the exit, she thought she was home free. She didn't count on the goat, however. Just as she was turning the corner of a large set of shelves, it darted out of nowhere and squealed at her, alerting the last guard to her presence. He started to come around the shelves, and Selene moved with him, keeping him opposite her. By the time she got around the stacks and moved on down the path, the guard had given up, evidently thinking the goat had caused the commotion itself.

Selene breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped out of the warehouse and into the morning light. It had been a long night, and she went straight to the Winking Skeever, paid Corpulus another ten Septims, and went to bed. She dreamed of the hunt, and again Hircine appeared in the dream and said concessions were to be made for the Dragonborn. When she awoke near midnight, she still had no idea what the dream meant, but for it to occur two nights in a row left no doubt that it was a message of some sort. Whatever it was, she would either figure it out or Hircine would reveal it to her in his own time. In the meantime, she would head back to Riften. And to Brynjolf.

She had thought so long about telling him how she felt, but his kiss the day she left for Solitude left little doubt that he felt the same way. That was not just a casual kiss between two people who were attracted to each other. It was full of desire and passion; but it was emotionally charged, the kind of kiss that lasted long after their lips had parted.

"Come back to me," he had said.

With everything she had to carry, Selene had intended to take the carriage back to Riften, but she wanted to get back to Brynjolf as quickly as possible. Instead, she finally broke down and bought a horse. She would probably sell it to Hofgrir, the owner of Riften's stables; but for now, the steed would get her home in record time.

Selene chuckled to herself. Home. _Whiterun_ had been home. She had never even referred to Windhelm as such. This was the first time she had ever thought of Riften as home, but that was what it was, and Brynjolf was waiting for her there.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	8. A Nightingale's Tale 8: A Chance

A Nightingale's Tale 8

A Chance Arrangement

Selene arrived at Whiterun's stables five days later. On foot. Still carrying the huge sack of gold. Exhausted. Incredibly cranky. The gods-damned horse had succumbed on the first day when bandits had attacked. Selene had slaughtered every last one of the bandits but not before they killed her horse. Had the gold been hers alone, she would have abandoned it, but no way in Oblivion was she going to let Mercer Frey lord something like that over her. Thus, she carried it, her mood growing fouler with every step. The only other encounter she'd had on the trip was a dragon, and he hadn't lasted past the first howl. She had nocked her arrow, cursed at it, and shot it in the eye. One dead dragon, no waiting. She hadn't even bothered to loot it or take a bone and scale. Another twenty-five pounds was definitely _not_ what she needed at the moment.

Her birthday had passed while she was on the road—twenty-two years old. She didn't really know why, but she had always considered her birthday to be a very important and personal day. Perhaps it was the only real thing she had from her childhood. By the time her parents were killed, she had learned her birthdate, and it was not something that could be taken away. Not by Grelod the Kind, not by the Imperials, and not the dragons. Her last few birthdays had been eventful; this one, however, was spent trudging across The Pale in the snow. True, it could have been worse—at least it wasn't actively snowing—but this one would not go down as one of her better birthdays.

The sun had just reached its zenith and was starting to descend toward the horizon when Selene staggered into Breezehome and dropped her belongings on the floor. She barely noticed that Lydia wasn't home as she trudged up the stairs to her room and fell into bed. Sometime later, she heard voices and roused to hear Lydia and Vilkas talking quietly downstairs. They seemed to be having some sort of disagreement, but Vilkas's normal irritability wasn't responsible. By the tone of their voices and their scents, Selene could tell something significant was going on. When she considered it, though, she was too tired to care. If they needed her, they'd wake her up. She closed her eyes and quickly went back to sleep. Even her inner beast was worn out, and she hardly dreamed, if at all.

When she awoke the next morning, she wondered if the key to a restful sleep was simply bone-deep exhaustion. If her inner beast was as tired as her outer persona, maybe they could _both_ get some rest. As she sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, she realized Vilkas was back. Either that or he'd never left. He was downstairs, alone apparently, because Lydia was still snoozing in her room, so Selene threw on a dress and went down to meet him.

"Morning," he said quietly. "You want coffee?"

"Mm-hmm." She curled up in the chair next to him and accepted the proffered cup. Now that she was more awake and alert, the scents were unmistakable. He and Lydia were involved. There was some anxiety in Vilkas's scent, though; he was worried about Selene's reaction.

"It's okay, you know."

"She said it would be. I wasn't sure."

Selene took his hand. "What you and I have has been full of passion from the first day. Even in our friendship, there's been so much emotion. We know more about each other's deepest fears and darkest secrets than we do about what makes us happy. But it never coalesced into something we could define. We were just together that one time, and it threw our worlds off balance. We can't lie to ourselves and say there was _nothing_ there, but we do need to admit it was little more than a false start."

"We just didn't know it at the time. You know, even when you were with Ulfric, somewhere deep down I always thought you'd come back to me. I was so focused on you, I didn't see what was happening with Lydia until—"

"It was too late?" Vilkas smiled sheepishly in response. "We were friends first, Vilkas, and we'll always stay that way. I just want you to be happy. _Are_ you happy?"

Vilkas shrugged. "As happy as I get, I suppose." Rolling her eyes, Selene took a sip of her coffee. "Are _you_ happy?"

"As happy as I get, I suppose," she responded with a coy grin.

* * *

While Lydia slept, Vilkas helped Selene get water for a hot bath, and she soaked until the water started to cool. By the time she got out of the tub, Lydia had gotten up and headed off to Jorrvaskr with Vilkas to train. Selene didn't have much to sell, but she decided to go to the marketplace anyway just to browse and socialize. And she got a fabulous surprise.

Standing by the grindstone at Warmaiden's chatting with Adrienne Avenicci while she worked was a handsome redhead with emerald-green eyes, a suave demeanor, and the sexiest fake accent this side of Aetherius. Selene smiled and approached. He hadn't seen her yet, and she managed to sneak up behind him.

"I would have let you come along if you'd asked," she drawled. "You didn't have to follow me all the way to Solitude and back."

Brynjolf turned, his face lighting up when he saw her, but he quickly hid his elation and crossed his arms over his chest nonchalantly. With a raised eyebrow, he said, "Oi, it's hard to follow you when you keep hiding from me."

"If I'd known you were there, you could have carried my stuff."

"Why do you think I didn't let you know?"

"I take it you two know each other?" asked Adrianne, who was just finishing up sharpening his blade.

"Never seen her before in my life." The look on Adrianne's face hinted that she actually believed him for the brief moment before he reached out and wrapped his arms around Selene. "What are you doing here?"

"Resting," she said flatly as she hugged him.

He pulled away and regarded her critically. "You look exhausted."

"Oh, thanks a lot!"

"No, I'm serious. What happened?"

Selene looked over at Adrianne, who stood holding Brynjolf's sword. Bryn turned to the blacksmith and accepted the weapon with a grateful nod, then gave her a handful of coins before moving away with Selene.

"Everything in Solitude went fine," she assured him as she led him toward Breezehome. She opened the door and let him in the house. Once inside, she kicked off her shoes and nudged the bag of gold, which was still sitting on the floor near the door, with her foot. "_That_ was the problem. I had a horse, but some bandits killed it, and I had to carry that thing on foot almost all the way."

"So you weren't kidding about needing someone to carry your stuff. I take it the sack's not full of potatoes."

"Gold. Lots of it."

Brynjolf raised his eyebrows. "Impressive."

"Perhaps, but I'm still not sure it was worth it. My back is on fire."

Brynjolf turned her around and massaged her shoulders, but she flinched when he pressed on a particularly sore spot. "Hmm," he groaned. "Lie down."

"Right here?"

"Aye. On the floor, facedown."

"You are such a sweet talker," she teased, but she did as he instructed.

He placed his hands on her back between her shoulder blades. "Take a deep breath and then let it out." When she did, he pushed down hard. With a great _cra-a-a-ack,_, Selene's spine slipped back into place and the muscle tension immediately began to release.

"Oh, sweet Kynareth, that's wonderful," she mumbled. "I'm just going to lie here for a while." But she didn't; she rose up on her hands and pushed herself to her feet.

"So tell me about the bag of gold," Brynjolf said as he sat down by the fireplace. "Did you extort it from Gullum-Ei?"

Selene went to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of mead, which she opened, took a sip from, and handed to Brynjolf. "That's exactly what I did. You were right to think he might be holding out on us. I put the fear of the Divines in him, though. I doubt we'll have any more trouble from him, for a while, at least."

"Did he tell you anything helpful?"

"Aye, he was working for someone named Karliah."

Brynjolf choked and sputtered, nearly dropping the bottle. "Karliah! That can't be!"

"It's what he said."

"Gods, Mercer's going to have a heart attack. Karliah killed his predecessor, Gallus."

"So I heard. I tried to get back to Riften as quickly as I could, but I couldn't just leave that gold somewhere."

"You're in luck, then, because I still have my horse. _He_ can carry it back to Riften for you."

"Which reminds me: why are _you_ here?"

He took a sip of mead and handed the bottle to Selene. "Maven sent me. She had a case of documents she wanted delivered to Mallus Maccius, and she said she didn't trust anybody else not to look at them."

"High praise from Maven Black-Briar."

"I know, damn her. I _really_ wanted to get a look at them after that."

"Did you?"

Brynjolf shook his head. "I'm not afraid of much, but Maven scares me."

"Me, too."

The conversation strained after that, both of them trying unsuccessfully to avoid an awkward silence. Their unease was uncharacteristic, but Selene knew what the problem was. She could smell Brynjolf's desire for her, as well as his hesitation; she just couldn't figure out why he hesitated. It didn't matter, though, because _she_ wasn't going to wait any longer. She got up from her chair and took hold of his hand. "Come on," she said softly.

"Where are we going?"

"Upstairs."

Brynjolf smiled. "Lead the way."

She led him up the stairs to her room, where she closed the door and pulled him onto the bed. Lying next to her, he took her in his arms and placed his lips on hers. As the kiss deepened, Selene curled her fingers through his hair and held tight, as if she were afraid he would pull away. His hands traveled over her curves, coming to rest on her bottom, which he squeezed tenderly. He withdrew his mouth from hers and trailed soft kisses and nibbles down her throat until he reached the laces of her dress. Before he could start untying them, however, she sat up and began working on the buckles of his armor. It occurred to Selene that Thieves Guild armor was not conducive to any sort of quick dressing or undressing.

"I never realized Guild armor had seven hundred buckles," she mused.

"Are you in a hurry?"

"Just to get you naked."

Brynjolf chuckled. "Then by all means, let me help."

After all clothing had been discarded on the floor, they took their time, exploring each other's bodies, playing, teasing, letting their need grow. Brynjolf liked to talk, and once in a while he said, "Do you like that?" But Selene was too distracted by what he was doing to give more than a moan. The more she liked something, the more he would tease her; and by the time he finally slid into her, her ache for him was so colossal that she couldn't contain the scream that burst forth from her lungs as she wrapped her arms and legs around him.

Tears welled in her eyes as she rose up to meet his thrusts; it had never been like this. The passion, the emotion, the odd notion that the connection went way beyond the physical, all were so powerful she could barely stand it. She screamed again and dug her nails into Brynjolf's back, her climax reaching new heights as his body stiffened and he buried himself inside her, his cries matching hers. When the waves of ecstasy subsided, he bent down and kissed her softly, and she found herself tearing up again. Divines, she adored this man.

He withdrew after a long moment and lay down next to her. She rested her head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. They lay in silence for a while, savoring the moment, catching their breath. After a while, Brynjolf started to chuckle.

"What are you laughing at?" she asked.

"'I tell you, I tell you, the Dragonborn comes.'"

Selene propped up on an elbow and swatted his chest, giggling. "That's enough of that! You've been waiting for weeks to use that, haven't you?"

"No, no, it just occurred to me. But I thought it fitting."

"You're so full of shite."

"Surely, I'm not the first to use it."

"In this context, you are. You know, until recently I thought that song had been written about me. I didn't know it was traditional."

"So you hate it."

"With a passion."

Suddenly growing serious, Brynjolf reached up and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "I've wanted this for so long," he said softly.

"Then why didn't you say something?"

"Last time I was in Whiterun, I went to see Olava the Seer. I do believe there are those who can predict the future, but I just went to Olava on a lark. I had been drinking, and Belethor dared me."

"Why am I not surprised that you're friends with Belethor?"

He chuckled in response. "I like Belethor. He knows how things are. We can go to the Bannered Mare and drink ourselves silly, pat each other on the back and promise to be life-long friends—and mean it—and know full well that one of us might rob the other blind the next day. It's a great relationship."

"So what did OIava say when she told your fortune?"

"She told me what you'd expect from a fortune teller—you know, 'a dark woman will come into your life,' that kind of thing—so I didn't expect it to be so accurate. But the detail was that a woman with dark hair and eyes the color of sapphires would kiss me on the cheek. Before that day in the plaza, no one had kissed me on the cheek since I was a child."

Selene raised an eyebrow. "Really? What else?"

"She said to take things slowly, and that woman would be the greatest love of my life."

Selene's heart fluttered anew, and she closed her eyes to hold back the tears that kept threatening to fall. One escaped, though, and Brynjolf brushed it away with his thumb.

"Hey, what was that for?"

"Brynjolf, I've loved you since the minute you sat down at my table in the Bee and Barb," she confessed, laying her head back on his chest. "When we picked each other's pockets, and then when I woke up the next morning and all my gear was gone, I knew we were destined to make each other either very happy or very miserable for the rest of our lives."

"Destiny. I've never believed in it before now."

"I've always believed in it, even before I knew I was the Dragonborn. It's luck that never had any place in my life."

"You're a thief. How can you not believe in luck?"

"I've just always thought it was the gods messing with us. I'm not saying every little thing that happens in a person's life is fate. I do believe in chance and coincidence. And free will. I'm just saying the Divines have a plan."

"You know all this scares the shite out of me, right? I've never said 'I love you' before."

"You still haven't."

He chuckled and lifted her chin so that she was facing him. "I love you."

"That's the first time I've ever heard it. It scares me, too. I've never had much faith in people, and this leaves me feeling vulnerable."

"I can't promise I'll never let you down, love, but I'll do my best not to."

"I'll do the same."

Anxiety crept into his scent, and he changed the subject, evidently feeling as vulnerable as she did. "Do you know that you have the most exquisite arse on the face of Nirn?"

Selene laughed. "Well, you have hinted at it from time to time."

He moved suddenly, shifting so that he was nearly on top of her, and then turned her over onto her belly, at which point he leaned down and bit her, placing a perfect hickey on her bottom.

"Ow!" she whined, although it hadn't hurt at all. "Did you have to do that?"

A pensive look came over Brynjolf's face as though he were actually considering the question. "Aye," he said finally, "aye, I did. Tell me you didn't like it."

She mimicked his expression. "Hmm. Aye, I did."

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	9. A Nightingale's Tale 9: The Long Con

A Nightingale's Tale Nine

The Long Con

"No," Mercer Frey said slowly, eyes wide, but Selene wasn't fooled. His voice and eyes may have shown shock and fear when she told him about Karliah, but his scent told a different story. He wasn't surprised to hear his nemesis's name.

Brynjolf had told her all about it on the way back from Whiterun. Twenty-five years previously, Karliah had seduced Gallus to gain his trust, and then she had begun stealing from the Guild. When Gallus had discovered her treachery, she had killed him and gravely wounded Mercer. She had disappeared after that, and no one had seen or heard from her since.

But Mercer had been expecting her.

Then again, it did make sense. Who better to take down the Guild from the inside than someone who had actually been there? Mercer had said their enemy was clever and patient. It was a long con, and the perpetrator was a master. Brynjolf had talked about how shrewd Karliah was. Plus, she was an elf. Twenty-five years to plan such an operation would be nothing to someone with such a long life.

"What's the plan?" Selene asked the Guild Master.

"At this point, there _is_ no plan," he said with frustration. "I have no idea where she is. Our only option for now is damage control. I'll need to talk to Maven—"

"Actually, I might have a clue as to where she is. Gulum-Ei said she was going 'where the end began.'"

"There's only one place that could be: Snow Veil Sanctum. It's where she murdered Gallus."

"Show me where it is on the map, and I'll head out first thing tomorrow."

"I'll meet you there."

"Mercer, I think I can—"

"Karliah is the absolute best at what she does. Even if you _are_ an experienced warrior, you'll still need backup, and I'm the best person for that. She and I were partners; we went together on every heist and watched each other's backs. I know her techniques, her skills. And I owe her. Brynjolf can show you where the ruin is. There's something I have to do before I go. I'll meet you there in four days. Don't be late. We cannot afford to let her slip through our fingers."

* * *

They propped up on pillows in bed, Selene leaning back against Brynjolf with his arms around her and their fingers intertwined, watching the fire as it flickered merrily in the kitchen, warming the house against the brisk autumn wind that buffeted the windows and doors. She closed her eyes and relished the feel of his body against hers—the hard muscles in his chest and legs, his strong arms, his soft lips and the bristles of his beard tickling her shoulder when he kissed it. It was going to be hard to leave him, but Mercer had already told him to stay and manage the Guild while he was gone. It was going to be hard to leave the house again, too. She was starting to wonder if she'd ever actually get to spend any time there.

"I've owned this house over a month but have only spent a few days here," she complained. "Now I'm leaving again."

"Perhaps when you get back, you can take a few days off to enjoy it."

"Hmm, that would be nice. That is, if I have you for company."

"I'll be right here with you, lass. Just take care of yourself and be sure you do come back."

"Plan to miss me?" she asked playfully.

He didn't answer right away, and anxiety seeped into his scent. He wrapped his arms tighter around her, and he spoke, where was a catch in his voice. "I've got a bad feeling. I know you can take care of yourself, and you'll have Mercer, but I can't help feeling something is going to go wrong. I never knew I could feel like this. I didn't believe love existed—not for me, even after what Olava said—and I don't want it yanked away."

She turned in his arms and looked up into his handsome face. Brynjolf bent his head to hers, but the kiss was interrupted by her growling stomach. He chuckled. "Are you hungry?"

"I could eat," she admitted. She climbed out of bed and went to the kitchen, but there was really no point looking around for anything to eat; she'd been gone for weeks, and there had been no time to shop. She went back to the bedroom, retrieved a dress from her wardrobe, and pulled it over her head.

"Are we going somewhere?" Brynjolf asked as she put on her boots.

"Let's go to the Bee and get some dinner."

Brynjolf got up and dressed, and they made their way to the Bee and Barb. "Ah, look who it is," said Talen-Jei when they sat down at a table near the stairs. "It's my dearest friends."

"Sarcasm isn't attractive, Talen-Jei," Selene told the Argonian.

"What can I get you?"

They each ordered venison steaks, baked potatoes, and Black-Briar mead. When Talen-Jei left the table, Brynjolf gave Selene a wry smile. "You have the oddest taste in food," he mused.

"I ordered the same thing you did!"

"Aye, but you ordered the venison rare and bloody. Who does that?"

"I do."

"Well, it's obvious that your tastes are simply unrefined."

"You must be right. Look who I fell in love with," she said with a coy grin.

Brynjolf brought a hand to his chest, a pained look coming over his face. "Ugh, lass, you cut me to the quick!"

As they waited for their food, Selene noticed Mercer entering the inn and stealing up the stairs. A few moments later, she heard raised voices. Curious, she got up from the table. "I'll be right back." She crept halfway up the stairs to eavesdrop on a heated conversation between Mercer and Maven Black-Briar.

"Karliah!" Maven cried. "Damn you, Mercer, you said you had this contained."

"How was I supposed to know she would pick now to reveal herself? She hasn't done anything for twenty-five years."

"Well, it seems she's been rather active these past few months, does it not? And you can't look me in the eye and tell me you didn't suspect she was behind it all."

"Was I surprised? No. But it doesn't matter; it'll be taken care of soon enough. I know where she is, and Selene and I are going to get rid of her."

Maven snorted derisively. "Selene. You didn't tell me she was responsible for breaking up the Cragslane skooma operation. Half the town is talking about her deeds; the jarl is even talking about making her Thane."

"So what? We have half of Mistveil Keep in our pocket anyway."

"Well, Divines know what _else_ she has her hands in. Does she fight as well as she digs up information?"

"I hear she was instrumental in the Stormcloaks' victory."

"Rumors."

"In any case, I'm certain that taking Karliah down will be a piece of cake for her."

Maven didn't speak for a long moment, but when she did, there was a tremble to her voice. "Mercer, she could ruin everything, all we've worked for. All those years without an incident, and suddenly she shows up and threatens to topple it. You cannot allow her to live."

"Don't worry. She won't leave Snow Veil Sanctum alive."

Selene snuck back down the stairs and sat down across from Brynjolf.

"What was that about?"

"I was just being nosy. Mercer and Maven were talking about Karliah, and I wanted to hear."

"You're a bad girl."

"Well, if you feel the need to turn me over your knee and spank me, I'll try not to squirm too much."

"Squirm, love. It's more fun that way."

"They were talking about me, too, if that helps."

"Oh? What did they say?"

"They said Laila was going to make me Thane."

Brynjolf made a sour face. "Don't get _too_ respectable on me, love. I don't think I could handle it."

"Well, according to Mercer, being employed by Mistveil Keep doesn't necessarily make one respectable. He said half of them are in the Guild's pocket."

"Half, eh? That's about right."

"Actually, Maven was pretty upset. She worries that Karliah will jeopardize everything she and the Guild have worked for."

"She said that?" Brynjolf asked incredulously.

"More or less. I'm sure she makes a good deal of coin off the Guild, no?"

"Very little, actually. We do her dirty work, and she offers _us_ financial support, not vice versa. She threatens to cut us off or sell us out at least once or twice a year."

"Perhaps she's getting more out of the arrangement than you know. Mercer doesn't tell you _everything,_ does he?"

"I'd know if he was giving Maven a cut," he retorted. "See, this is what you get for eavesdropping. Now we have questions we may not want answered."

"Tell me you're not angry with me because I listened in on that conversation."

"No, love, I'm not angry with you. I just have to wonder why she suddenly cares so much."

"Better to have her care than sell us out, no?"

"Aye, I guess you're right."

The conversation turned to other things, but Brynjolf was unusually quiet. Only when they made love later did Selene feel like he was right there with her; otherwise, he was pensive, preoccupied, and she finally fell asleep not knowing what was bothering him. She awoke the next morning to find him lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. He looked exhausted.

"Do you know you growl in your sleep?" he asked her when she cuddled up to him.

"So I've heard. You didn't sleep at all, did you?"

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. "Were you ever with a group of people, at a party or something, and everybody was in on a joke, but you didn't get the joke? Like you were missing something. That's how I feel. I'm missing something, something I should have picked up on, and it confounds me."

"I've never seen you like this."

"I like to think I'm pretty sharp. You can't get much past me, can't con the con man. But something is not right, I can't figure out what it is, and I can't help feeling you and Mercer are walking into the lion's den."

Selene propped on an elbow and looked him in the eye. "Bryn, you're just feeling this way because we've never been separated before."

"I accept that you'll come and go; it's part of the job. This is more than that."

"I don't think you're missing anything. I think I only heard part of a conversation, and what I relayed to you didn't give you enough information to ease your mind. If it will make you feel better, I'll take extra care to watch for the unexpected, but I'll come back, love. I'll _always_ come back."

Brynjolf caressed her cheek and forced a smile. "You'd better. I have plans for you."

"Anything good?"

"You'll have to come back to find out."

* * *

Snow Veil Sanctum was halfway between Windhelm and Winterhold, about a three-day hike from Riften. Selene made good time and approached the ruin late on the third afternoon, wrinkling her nose as she passed a freshly dead horse.

"Good, you're finally here," Mercer muttered when she met him near the entrance. "I've scouted the ruins and I'm certain Karliah is inside."

"I take it that was her horse?"

"It was. Let's get moving. I want to catch her while she's distracted. You take the lead, and watch your step. These places are rife with traps, and I don't want you blundering into something and alerting her."

"I'll try to be careful," Selene retorted sarcastically.

"So what's going on with you and Brynjolf?" Mercer asked as they descended the spiral stairs to the entrance.

"What makes you think anything's going on?"

"Because I'm not stupid. You left alone but returned together, and things between you two were very cozy."

"We ran into each other in Whiterun."

"I'm not accusing you of anything; it makes no difference to me. But I hope you're not expecting him to pledge his undying love. He's a notorious ladies' man, and he'll say anything to get you into bed."

"Whatever you say, Mercer."

"Love is what killed Gallus. He let Karliah get too close, trusted her too much, and it was a fatal mistake."

"Well, I don't see Brynjolf betraying the Guild. I know you don't believe it, but I won't, either; and I'm certainly not going to use him to do it." She worked on the lock, but it was tougher than most ruin doors she had encountered and didn't want to budge.

"Here, let me," he said. "I don't know what all the fuss is with these things. All it takes is a bit of knowhow. And a lot of skill," he added pointedly. "I've waited too long and spent too much coin to let her get away because you can't open a lock."

"You know what, Mercer? You're kind of a dick."

He chuckled. "After Karliah killed Gallus, the in-fighting in the Guild was brutal. The Ratway turned into a bloodbath, and I didn't become Guild Master in a popularity contest. The struggle for leadership gave Karliah time to cover her tracks. I spent years and thousands of Septims trying to find her, but it was as if she had simply vanished. I'm too close now to worry about bruising your delicate ego." With a pop, the lock gave way, and Mercer stood back. "After you."

Once they were inside the crypt, it was pretty evident that Karliah had been through and left a fairly easy trail. Selene could have followed her by scent, but it wasn't an issue because it seemed Karliah _wanted_ them to find her. A handful of dead draugr, a footprint, an open chest all left clues that she had passed through. She didn't make it _that_ easy for them, however; she reset any traps she triggered and set more.

Selene could tell early on that dungeon delving with Mercer would not go down as one of her more enjoyable endeavors. He told her to be quiet, but he spoke loudly. He warned her to watch out for traps and then triggered them himself. He was fairly generous when splitting any loot they found along the way, however; then again, maybe he just didn't want to carry it. Selene took point and eliminated any draugr they came across. Once or twice, when there were more than she could handle easily, Mercer stepped in. He was an adequate fighter, and she was grateful for the help. The more they fought, though, the more fear seeped into his scent, and she got the distinct impression that it was _her_ he feared, not the draugr. He knew she was a Companion, and she thought he knew she was the Dragonborn. Surely he hadn't underestimated her fighting ability.

"There are an awful lot of living draugr," Selene noted. "Well, _moving_ draugr, anyway."

"Karliah always was a nimble minx. Slipping past them must have been child's play for her."

"And foolish, if you ask me. You never leave an enemy alive behind you."

At the end of a long tunnel, they found a set of wide double doors, which Mercer mentioned would be a good place for an ambush. They didn't find an ambush, only a large room guarded by a couple of draugr. They were easy to dispatch, and when things quieted down, Selene heard familiar chanting. She found a word wall at the back of the room and approached it, the chanting growing louder and the word glowing brighter on the wall.

"_Zun,"_ the wall whispered to her. She reached deep down to connect with the last dragon she had killed, and understanding filled her mind. _Zun_ meant _weapon_ and was used to disarm an opponent.

When she turned away from the wall, Mercer was standing behind her, eyes wide. He didn't say a word, and when she tried to make eye contact, he looked away. The fear in his scent was unmistakable now. "I imagine that's pretty shocking for the first time," she said kindly.

"It's fine," he barked. "I've seen a lot of crazy things over the years."

After looting a particularly lucrative chest, they moved on until they came upon a door with a dragon claw puzzle.

"Ah, if it isn't one of the infamous Nordic puzzle doors," Mercer drawled. "How quaint."

"You say 'quaint,' but without the matching claw, there's no way through."

"No worries. These doors have a weakness if you know how to exploit it." He stepped up to the door, again turning his back so she couldn't see what he was doing. After a moment, the door began to drop into its recess. Mercer stood back and motioned for her to go ahead.

"That's handy," Selene said, impressed. "You'll have to show me that trick sometime."

Mercer answered with a grunt.

Selene didn't see much as she stepped through the door. There was a sharp pain in her shoulder, a dizzy, hazy sensation, and then she blacked out. When she came to, Mercer stood farther in the room, talking to a dark elf wearing tattered Thieves Guild armor. Her bow was drawn, and an arrow was trained on Mercer.

"Do you honestly think your arrow will reach me before my blade finds your heart?"

"Give me a reason to try," Karliah dared him in a soft, gentle voice. She sounded more as if she should be singing lullabies instead of threatening to kill someone.

Mercer sheathed his sword, and Karliah lowered her bow. "You're a clever girl, Karliah. Buying Goldenglow and funding Honningbrew was inspired."

"'To ensure an enemy's defeat, you must first undermine his allies.' It was the first lesson Gallus taught us."

"You always were a quick study."

"Not quick enough. Otherwise, Gallus would still be alive."

"Gallus had his wealth, and he had you. All he had to do was look the other way."

What? Was Selene hearing this right? It sounded as though it was _Mercer_ who had betrayed the Guild and killed Gallus. He had spoken of a long con, implying that Karliah had engineered it, but it had been him from the very beginning.

"Did you forget the oath we took as Nightingales? Did you expect him to simply ignore your methods?"

"That oath was a means to an end. I owe my allegiance to no one."

"Oh? What about Maven Black-Briar?"

Mercer hesitated but finally said, "Maven is also a means to an end, and don't think she's not using me just as I'm using her. Better to have her as an ally than an enemy, something you weren't able to make her for all your effort."

"Perhaps she trusts you more than she should. Or do you trust her more than _you_ should?"

"I can trust Maven because I know I _can't_ trust her. Neither of us will betray the other because the cost would be too great."

"You're a fool, Mercer."

"Enough of this mindless banter!" He drew his sword. "Come, Karliah! It's time for you to be reunited with Gallus."

The elf drank a potion and vanished. "_I'm_ no fool, Mercer. Crossing blades with you would be a death sentence. But I can promise you the next time we meet, it will be your undoing."

Selene tried desperately to get up, to move, to do _anything_ as Mercer sheathed his sword and moseyed nonchalantly toward her, but nothing happened. She could barely breathe, much less defend herself.

"Oh, look, you're awake! And you heard every word, didn't you? Maven was right when she said I couldn't allow you to live. You know too much already, and you're a master at investigation. It wouldn't have been long before you uncovered our operation, even if you and I hadn't come here. And just as with Gallus, Karliah has provided me with the means to be rid of you." He drew his sword and smiled mirthlessly down at her. "Farewell, Selene. I'll be certain to give your boyfriend your regards."

No. He couldn't. He would go back and tell Brynjolf she had been working with Karliah all along. Bryn would hate her, and she would never be able to tell him the truth. As Mercer buried his blade in her abdomen, she managed a faint whimper, but it was only moments before the pain and weakness overtook her. Then there was nothing.

* * *

She was in the garden with the picnic, the strawberries, and the lovely goddess, who sat smiling at her. The clearing where they sat was sunny and peaceful, but a storm raged just outside the perimeter.

"Milady," Selene said to Kynareth with a nod, "am I dead?"

"No, child. I refuse to allow that conniving reprobate to end your life." The storm intensified as she spat the words. "He is weak, selfish, and he has no idea how many he has angered with his...antics."

"Antics?"

"That is all they are, really. Compared to you, my champion, he is but a child playing a foolish game. He is no match for you."

"It seems he defeated me pretty thoroughly."

"He took advantage of your paralysis. He knew he could not defeat you in battle, so he was forced to cheat. You smelled his fear; you know what I say is true. Now you must go back and show him what _real_ fear is. I cannot say I approve of your actions of late, but free will exists for a reason, and even your larceny has a purpose. You will be given a choice soon; someone will try to force your loyalty. But know this: concessions must be made for the Dragonborn."

"I've heard that before."

"Hircine was correct. Most would not be allowed to divide their loyalties as you do, but you have a greater purpose than most. Do you what you must, and it will all be sorted out when the time comes. That is not to say true evil will be condoned. You know the difference between a rogue and a villain, and I trust you will not cross that line. Now, go back and defeat Mercer Frey, but do not forget that you are Dragonborn. Alduin will wait, but he will not wait forever."

* * *

Selene slowly opened her eyes and looked around. She was outside Snow Veil Sanctum, lying next to a campfire near the dead horse It was sometime in the afternoon, and the sunlight glinted off the snow like diamonds. Her shoulder hurt where Karliah had shot her, and her side ached where Mercer had stabbed her, but she was alive and in better shape than she would hav expected. She struggled to her feet and took stock. She still had her bow and arrows, but everything else was gone.

"Easy," said the Dunmer. "Don't get up too quickly."

Selene got up anyway and faced Karliah. Most dark elves had red eyes, but hers were a stark violet. Her scent was unusual as well. She was Dunmer, but she was more. She handed Selene a healing potion.

"Where's my stuff?" she demanded as she accepted and drank the potion.

"Mercer took it; I'm sorry. How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been shot and stabbed."

"My arrow saved your life," Karliah informed her. "It was tipped with a unique paralytic poison that slowed your heart and kept you from bleeding out."

"But why did you save me?"

"I never intended to kill you. My original intent was to use that arrow on Mercer, but he made a point of keeping you out in front. I couldn't get a clear shot. I shot you instead to get you out of the way." She bristled. "That poison took me a year to perfect, and I only had enough for one shot. All I had hoped for was to capture him alive, and he outplayed me."

"Aye, by using me as a shield. That bastard. Why capture him alive?"

"Mercer must be brought before the Guild to answer for what he's done. He must pay for Gallus's murder."

"I know now, and I can go back and tell Brynjolf. He'll believe me."

"Do you think so? I've been watching you, you know. Brynjolf has only known you a few months. He's known Mercer since he was a boy. Do you really think he'll believe you over him?"

Selene didn't want to think about the lies Mercer would tell Brynjolf. He had worried something was wrong, and she had dismissed his fears out of hand. He would remember that when Mercer told him she had been the betrayer. Karliah was right. A few "I love yous" wouldn't be enough to keep his trust by the time Mercer was finished. She closed her eyes to stifle the tears that threatened to well up.

"You'll also have Maven Black-Briar to contend with," Karliah continued. "She is just as guilty as Mercer but with much more power, and she knows how to orchestrate a cover-up."

"Then we'll need proof. Any ideas?"

"To get Maven? No, not yet. However, my purpose in using Snow Veil Sanctum to ambush Mercer wasn't simply for irony's sake. Gallus's remains are still here, and before you arrived, I recovered his journal."

"What does it say?"

"I wish I knew. It's written in some sort of language I've never seen before." She went into her tent and retrieved the journal, which she handed to Selene.

She looked through it to find thousands of odd symbols like nothing she'd ever seen. "Perhaps it can be translated," she mused.

"Enthir! Of course!"

"Enthir?"

"Gallus's friend at the College of Winterhold. He was the only outsider Gallus trusted with knowing his identity as a Nightingale."

"Nightingale. I keep hearing that word."

"The Nightingales are an anonymous splinter of the Thieves Guild. There were three of us—myself, Mercer, and Gallus. Perhaps I'll tell you more about it later, but right now, it's important to get to Winterhold with the journal." She handed Selene a knapsack containing some healing potions, a few bottles of poison, and a coin purse. She also picked up a dagger and gave it to her. "Take these with you. They may help you on your journey. I know Mercer didn't leave you with much."

"_My_ journey? You're not coming?"

"I'm afraid not. There are preparations to make, and Gallus's remains to lay to rest. I promise to join you there as soon as I can."

Selene noticed a tear sliding down Karliah's face. "Are you all right?"

Karliah sighed sadly. "You've heard the phrase 'bigger than life,' yes? Have you ever met anyone who fit the bill?"

Ulfric's face instantly came to mind. "Aye, I have," she replied with a sad smile.

"You'll have to tell me about him sometime. _Gallus_ was bigger than life. He was a scholar, a master thief, and a natural leader. Everyone respected him and followed him without question. He inducted me into the Nightingales and honed my skills to a razor-sharp point. I owe him everything. We were...very close."

"Mercer said you were lovers."

"Gallus felt he could let his guard down around me. I can't help but think I'm responsible for what happened to him."

"No," Selene said resolutely. _"Mercer_ is responsible for what happened to him. People are accountable for their own actions, and trust me: Mercer will pay."

"You should get going. Remember, speak only to Enthir. Trust no one else."

"Do you think they'll actually let me into the college? I know enough magic to heal a wound, but I wouldn't call myself a mage."

"They will. They _must._ But check at the Frozen Hearth first. He spends a lot of time there; perhaps you'll get lucky."

"I don't believe in luck," she replied automatically.

Karliah laughed. "Once we get through this, you will."

Selene thanked Karliah for her help, said goodbye, and headed north. As she topped a small hill, she saw the College of Winterhold looming in far the distance, a stark tower rising over the Sea of Ghosts, connected to the mainland only by a narrow bridge. And here she was, isolated from those she loved, alone, connected only by a cryptic journal and the hope that some wizard could translate it. It had to be enough.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	10. A Nightingale's Tale 10: Can't Get There

A Nightingale's Tale 10

Can't Get There From Here

Selene arrived at the Frozen Hearth in Winterhold just after midnight and asked the innkeeper if he knew where she could find Enthir.

"You're in luck," he said. "He just walked in."

Selene turned to see an amiable-looking Bosmer just closing the front door. His bronze skin was accented by golden eyes and orange hair cut in a long strip down the middle of his head. He had a mischievous look in his eye as he waved at one of the other patrons. When she walked up to him, he raised an eyebrow.

"We don't get many Guild members in Winterhold," he said, noting her armor.

"Enthir, I'm Selene. Karliah sent me."

His eyes widened, and he said, "Did she find the journal?"

"Aye, but there's a problem."

"Come with me." He led her to a corner table and sat down across from her. She handed him the journal, and he paged through, chuckling. "This is so like him, always too smart for his own good."

"Do you recognize the language?

"Yes, it's Falmer."

"The Falmer have a language?" she asked incredulously.

"This is _ancient_ Falmer, mind you. The snow elves of old. Their modern descendants aren't as feral as you might think; they're cunning in ways you can't imagine. However, I'd be surprised to find them sitting down and composing a tome."

"Why in Nirn would Gallus write the text in Falmer?"

"Besides the fact that there are only a handful of people in Tamriel who even recognize it? He mentioned a heist he was planning that involved a deep understanding of the language."

"Can you translate the journal?"

"No, but I know someone who might. The court wizard in Markarth has done extensive research on the Falmer. I sent Gallus to him when he asked about the language. He may have the materials you need to translate the text."

"Do you mean Calcelmo? I know him."

"Then you know how fiercely he guards his research. Getting the information won't be easy."

"I have an idea how to get what I want from him. He once tracked me down halfway across Skyrim because he heard I'd come across a piece of dwarven armor. I may have something I can trade for information."

"Good luck, Selene. If you bring me the materials, I'll translate the journal for you."

* * *

Selene rented a room and slept for a few hours before preparing to hit the road. Using the coin Karliah had given her, she bought food from the innkeeper and supplies from the general store before heading south. Growing up, Selene had occasionally heard the joke, "Can't get there from here." If it applied anywhere in Skyrim, it was between Winterhold and Markarth. There was nothing remotely resembling a direct route. She was going to be on her own for days with nothing to do but think about Brynjolf and the lies Mercer was surely filling his head with. She did her best to clear her mind and think about nothing but the journey. One foot in front of the other, mile after mile, just get there. "Eyes on the prey, not the horizon," Farkas would say. For now, the prey was an enchanted dwarven dagger in Whiterun. One foot in front of the other, mile after mile, just get there. Just get there. When the mantra threatened to collapse, she tried to drop into a shallow meditative state, but it had been so long since she had even attempted to meditate, her happy place eluded her.

"Kynareth, help me get through this," Selene whispered as she slogged through the snow, her shoulder and side aching. When she reached the road through The Pale, she decided to head west and hire the carriage in Windhelm. It was half a day out of the way, but the speed of the horse would make up the time. As she rode, she lay on the bench and closed her eyes, and she finally did slip into her meditative state, making the trip more bearable.

When she finally arrived in Whiterun, she stepped into Breezehome and into the arms of Lydia, who held her so tightly it hurt.

"Thank the Divines, you're alive!" she cried, fresh tears streaming down already-wet cheeks.

"Um, Lydia?"

Lydia pulled back and placed her hands on Selene's shoulders. "We need to get to Jorrvaskr. Quickly." She grabbed Selene's hand and pulled her out of the house and down the street.

"Why are we going to Jorrvaskr?"

"Gotta stop the twins."

"From doing what?"

"From going to Riften."

By the time they reached the steps to Jorrvaskr, Lydia was running. She darted up the stairs and threw one of the double doors open, running headlong into Vilkas.

"Whoa, what's the—Selene?"

Farkas, who was standing next to his brother, gasped and then picked her up and swung her around, hugging her fiercely.

"Farkas, this hurts, love. I'm injured."

He set her down on the floor and looked at her critically. "What in Oblivion happened?"

"We got a letter from Brynjolf this morning," said Vilkas. "It said you were dead. He was somewhat cryptic as to the details."

"We were just leaving for Riften to find out what was going on," Farkas continued.

"Come sit," Selene told them. She took Farkas's hand and led him, Vilkas, and Lydia down the stairs into the mead hall, where she told them what had happened.

Vilkas's eyes narrowed more with every word she said. "I'll kill the son of a bitch," he growled.

"And deny me the privilege? Uh-uh."

"What's your plan, and what can we do to help?"

"Until I have proof against Mercer Frey, I can't even think of going back to Riften. I've got Gallus's journal, and it probably incriminates Mercer, but it's written in Falmer. I'm on my way to Markarth to get help translating it. I don't think there's anything you can do to help."

"I can go to Markarth with you," Farkas offered.

"No, this is something I have to do myself. I'll need to negotiate with the mage who has translation materials, and failing that, I'll have to use my stealth. I don't see a lot of opportunity to fight."

"I can go to Markarth with you," he repeated more forcefully. "A lot could happen between here and there. You need a shield-brother."

"He's right, you know," said Lydia.

"All right, fine, but when I go to see Calcelmo, you stay at the inn."

"I'll send word to Brynjolf," Vilkas said.

"No!" Selene replied quickly. "I don't know what Mercer has told him and how he reacted. It's better if he thinks I'm dead at this point."

"But he deserves to know you're alive," Lydia implored her.

"And he will, but I need proof first. Lydia, at the very least, Mercer has told him I betrayed the Guild and he had to kill me. Gods know what else he made up. If Brynjolf doesn't hate me now, he most certainly will if he finds out I'm alive and I came here instead of going back to him."

"Understood," said Vilkas.

Selene and Farkas didn't dally. Having been on the way out the door already, he was ready to go, so he stopped in the Bannered Mare to say goodbye to Saadia while Selene went to Breezehome to refresh her supplies and get the dwarven trinket for Calcelmo, and then they left for Markarth. He wouldn't allow her to brood and insisted on keeping the conversation going. It got on her nerves at first, but after she accepted that he had come on the trip not only as a shield-brother but as a friend who refused to let her feel sorry for yourself, she opened up and did her best to cope, if not enjoy the trip. It had been a long time since they had fought together, and she had several opportunities to enjoy working in tandem with him. The Reach was thick with Forsworn, and she was glad to have him along as a shield-brother. They fought no less than four tribes before reaching Markarth.

After checking in at the Silver-Blood Inn, eating, and getting cleaned up, Selene left Farkas at the bar and made her way through town to Understone Keep. She found Calcelmo in his usual location, standing over an arcane enchanter just outside the Nchuand-Zel ruin. "Well met, Calcelmo," she greeted him.

His head popped up suddenly, as if he were a groundhog. "What? What is it? Can't you see I'm busy?"

"My lord, it's Selene Stormblade. We met before. You bought some dwarven armor from me."

"Ah, yes, yes! Good to see you again. Do you have anything else for me?"

"Actually, I do." She produced the dagger and handed it to him.

He studied it carefully, mumbling observations and finally saying, "Excellent. Excellent piece. I'll gladly pay you twice what it's worth. There's more where that came from if you'll do me another favor."

"If it's within my power, certainly."

"A giant spider has taken up residence in the excavation site and has caused quite a bit of havoc. The workers call her Nimhe, 'the poisoned one.' If you deal with her, I'll let you into both the excavation site and my Dwemer museum."

Selene remembered hearing someone say Calcelmo's laboratory was attached to the museum, so access might come in very handy. "Of course. I'll see what I can do." Calcelmo paid Selene for the dagger and gave her a key to the excavation site, and Selene set out.

When the mage had said "giant," he wasn't kidding. Nimhe was easily five times the size of a standard frostbite spider, and she took up most of the cavern Selene found her in. Though she had little trouble with the spider, she was glad she had left Farkas at the inn. He was so skittish around the "big crawly ones," as he liked to call them, and Nimhe might have just sent him fleeing in terror.

After dispatching Nimhe, she left the site and went back to Calcelmo, who still stood over the enchanting table. "I hear you're an authority on the Falmer," she mentioned as the Altmer handed her the museum key.

"That is correct. I am on the eve of completing my magnum opus on the subject. I'm calling it _Calcelmo's Guide to the Falmer Tongue._ It will revolutionize the way we understand those ancient beings."

"It might also help us understand the current ones, don't you think? Perhaps we could find some way to communicate with them."

Calcelmo's eyes lit up. "I never thought of it that way. Of course, that would be quite a challenge. They're clever, to be sure, but they seem to hate anyone who is not a Falmer."

"Ulfric Stormcloak isn't fond of anyone who's not a Nord, but even he can be taught," she said with a sly grin.

The mage chuckled. "Indeed, indeed."

"Perhaps I could view your work."

"Preposterous!" he gasped. "That work represents years of toil in some of the most dangerous Dwemer ruins in Skyrim. You must be mad to think I'd let anyone see it before it's complete!"

"What if I told you it's meant to help solve a murder?"

"I'm sorry, but that's as far as my generosity extends. I simply cannot reveal my work in its current state."

_Fine,_ she thought. _If you won't help me, I'll just do it my way._ "I understand. Thank you anyway, Calcelmo."

"Do enjoy the museum, and look for my book when it comes out."

Selene went back to the inn and socialized with Farkas until about midnight, and then she headed back to the keep. She let herself into the museum with her key, and the guards barely acknowledged her, even such a late hour. There were two of them, and they were belly-aching about how many guards Calcelmo had taken for his excavation site. One of them nodded to her as she wandered through the displays, but they basically ignored her. It was nothing to slip out the back door.

Selene crept through corridors loaded with Dwemer pieces until she found a room opening off to the side. She checked the room for any information on the Falmer, and though she didn't find what she was looking for, she found an interesting item. It was a small staff made of bronze with a red crystal set in the head. The journal next to it belonged to Aicantar, Calcelmo's nephew. Apparently it was used to control a mechanical dwarven spider that had been found on a recent expedition. It couldn't be sold as a working staff, but it was just the type of curiosity that Delvin liked to invest in. Selene picked up the rod, and a recess opened behind her and said dwarven spider emerged. Its metal feet tapping on the floor, it came up to her and regarded her expectantly.

"You're going to follow me all over this place, aren't you?" Selene muttered. It raised one of its legs in response, almost as if it were saluting her. She placed the rod back on its stand and walked out of the room, but the spider followed. "Shoo, go home," she whispered. It simply looked at her. "Oh, for the love of Talos." She went back to the journal and skimmed through, but though Aicantar said the rod would control the spider, he didn't really say _how_. She figured if she was stuck with the thing, she might as well go ahead and take the rod. Maybe it would come in handy.

She and her new companion didn't get far before the spider skittered ahead and attacked a guard. Selene ducked into the shadows as it sprayed lightning at the guard, who swung his greatsword hard enough to destroy it in one swipe. She knew it was her imagination, but she could almost believe she heard the spider whimper as it died.

"I knew that damn thing couldn't be controlled," the guard groused as he went back to his post.

Selene waited until the guard was settled before sneaking past him and going on her way. She waltzed around a few guards, using support columns to stay hidden, and passed through a wide room to the next set of large, brass doors. She had to drink an invisibility potion to get past a pair of guards who walked a long, narrow corridor with a rotating-blade trap running up the middle. One of them came dangerously close to touching her, but Selene managed to slip past her just in time. She navigated the corridors and explored all the rooms she came across, but though she pocketed some gold and a few gems, she found nothing related to Calcelmo's Falmer research.

She found Aicantar in a vast laboratory, studying some books while a guard paced back and forth. Stacks of research material and books lay about the lab, but with Aicantar and the guard present, there was no way she could look through all of them. She needed a distraction. In the hallway next to the lab, she found a large valve and a steam pipe, which led over the lab. There were a couple of vents, and Selene figured the valve must operate the vents. If she opened the valve, steam would flood the lab and distract the guard and Aicantar, and she might have time to at least give the research a glance and pick up something she could use. She turned the valve.

Instead of sending steam hissing through the vents, turning the valve caused a small explosion. The guard shrieked as he caught the force of the blast, and he dropped to the floor, twitching in his death throes. Selene cringed and whispered, "I'm sorry." Killing him hadn't been part of the plan. Aicantar was unhurt, but he jumped up and down, screaming at the top of his lungs. He ran out of the lab and down the hall from which she had just come, and she slipped into the empty room. She rummaged through as many books and papers as she could without taking too long, but all of the research was Aicantar's. She didn't leave the room empty handed, though. In a nook on the far side of the room was an expensive-looking Dwemer puzzle cube, another rare item Delvin would like. She slipped the cube into her bag and prayed to Kynareth that Delvin would buy it without killing her first, then exited through a back door.

She emerged onto a balcony overlooking the city. The view was lovely, but the balcony was a dead end. A flight of stairs led up to the tower, but after she explored the tower room, she would have nowhere to go. She looked over the rail to judge how far the drop was, trying to gauge whether she could safely climb down, but she would be too visible. On the end, however, some stones were missing from the wall, and the gap led behind the waterfall. It wasn't a straight drop, but it was close and about two stories high. Still, the wall was smooth and the water plunged into a shallow pool; if she was lucky, she might be able to slide down and have a reasonably soft landing.

Lucky! It was the first time since she was a child that she had hoped for luck. She hadn't thought Nimhe had poisoned her, but she was obviously delirious. Ah, well. Maybe the delirium would make it easier to step into the waterfall.

She had one more place to look before she gave up the quest for Calcelmo's research and began to think of alternatives. She ascended the stairs and opened the brass door. A short hallway led to a huge room on two levels. There was little but ruin on the first level, but a loft area housed Calcelmo's office. It looked like the rest of the outer lab and pretty much like every other Dwemer ruin she'd ever seen. Everything was made of stone, and myriad brass pieces adorned every table and stand. She had seen hundreds of them, and there was nothing new here. His desk contained some notes but nothing that would help. She opened what she thought was a closet, but it turned out to be a balcony, and the only thing on the balcony was a miracle.

There stood a monolith, not much bigger than a headstone, bearing a replacement alphabet for the Falmer and Dwemer languages. Someone had put in a great deal of time and effort to carve the alphabet out of this stone. It was a masterpiece.

Selene smiled. No, it wasn't luck. It was just the gods messing with her again, putting her quarry in the last possible place she could look. That was fine. At least they put it there. But how to take the information with her? She went back in the office and picked up some paper and charcoal with the intention of taking notes, but she got a better idea. Using the biggest roll of paper she could find, she held it up against the stone and slid the charcoal sideways over it to get a rubbing. Making a copy directly from the work would prevent human error as long as she was careful to get all the letters captured properly.

Just as she was finishing up, the tower door opened. "That valve didn't open itself, Captain," Aicantar was saying. "There must be somebody here."

The captain cleared his throat. "Oh, all right," he drawled dubiously. "If there is an intruder here, he won't leave this tower alive. But shouldn't we inform Master Calcelmo?"

"I'll worry about my uncle. You just find whoever killed that guard."

Selene didn't waste any time. She darted out of the office and hid behind a column at the top of the stairs. Only seconds later, a guard came around the corner and started up the stairs. Another trailed along behind her, and Selene realized it was the two from the long hallway with the blade trap. The woman went into the office, but the man paced up and down the stairs. She would have to drink another invisibility potion. She only had one left, so she'd have to make it count. She quietly reached into her pack and retrieved the potion, gently pulling the cork and drinking the sickly-sweet liquid. Then she started down the stairs. She got as far as the hallway before the potion wore off. The captain stood with his back to the corridor, but the mage sat on a bench in the doorway. There was no way in Oblivion she would get past him without an invisibility potion.

Thus, she waited. There wasn't much to search, just the office and the nooks and crannies. She engaged in a minor dance when the captain looked behind the column where Selene hid, but she was better at hiding than he was at searching. After a few minutes he returned to Aicantar.

"If there was anybody here, they found a way to escape."

"Impossible."

"My lord, we've searched this place top to bottom. There's no one here."

The elf sighed with resignation. "Oh, very well." He got up and followed the guards out of the tower.

Selene waited another half hour or so in case Aicantar had decided to stake out the balcony. When she finally left the tower room, the balcony was deserted, so she slipped through the gap in the rock and slid down the wall behind the waterfall. She splashed into the pool, but it wasn't deep enough for a soft landing, and she sprained her ankle. Still, after everything she'd been through, a sore ankle was the least of her worries. She scanned the area to see if anyone was watching, but the pool was obscured by an outcropping of wall. Unseen, she climbed out of the fountain and squeezed the excess water from her hair, then made her way back to the Silver-Blood in—or rather, _limped_ back to the inn.

Farkas was asleep when she entered the room, and she changed into something dry, then lay down next to him and kissed him on the forehead. They might have been lovers at one time, but they were close enough friends now that she never even considered that his intentions might be less than honorable. He had Saadia and she had Brynjolf, and their friendship was all that existed now.

He sniffed at the air without opening his eyes. "You're in pain," he mumbled. "What happened?"

"Not much. I turned my ankle, and it's pretty sore. Did you have a good night?"

"Aye. Got into a drinking contest with a couple of the townspeople. It was a good time. When you didn't come back right away, I figured that mage didn't give you what you wanted and you had to go looking."

"I'll tell you all about it on our way back to Whiterun—which, by the way, will need to be by carriage."

"I could carry you," he joked.

Selene laughed. "Go back to sleep, you big lug."

* * *

After dropping Farkas at Jorrvaskr, Selene went on alone and arrived at the Frozen Hearth a full three weeks after she had left. The innkeeper directed her to the cellar, where she found Enthir and Karliah in earnest conversation.

"Selene," Karliah said with a sigh of relief.

"How was our friend Calcelmo?" Enthir asked.

"He was Calcelmo. Totally engrossed in his work and couldn't be bothered with anything else."

"Was he helpful?"

"Aye. He handed me the key to his museum."

"Generous."

"Oh, no. I was only there as a tourist. He had no idea what I did once I was inside the museum." She reached into her knapsack and produced the charcoal rubbing, which she had carefully rolled and tucked into the side. "I think this should help translate Gallus's journal."

"A rubbing, eh? Odd. I expected notes. No worries, though; this will do nicely. I'll get to work right away. Give me a couple of hours to translate the journal."

"Thank you, Enthir," Karliah said. "We'll be upstairs. Come, Selene. Tell me about your journey."

Selene and Karliah went up to the bar and had a few drinks and a bite to eat while waiting for Enthir to translate Gallus's journal. While they drank, Selene told Karliah about the trip. Karliah laughed heartily when she told her about the dwarven spider.

"It seems you had an unlikely pet."

"That's what I thought. I was afraid I would have to give it a name! Fortunately, it didn't last long. The first guard we encountered killed it."

"What does one name a dwarven spider?"

Selene thought for a moment and said, "Nimhe."

"Why Nimhe?"

"That was the name of the giant spider I killed in the ruin. After that, it would seem appropriate."

"Listening to your tale, I'm encouraged. You're even cleverer than I took you for. I believe together we can make the Guild see reason."

"I just hope we don't have to fight our way in."

Enthir appeared at the top of the cellar stairs and motioned for them to follow. When they were all together in the cellar, he handed Selene the translated journal. "It appears Gallus had suspicions about Mercer's allegiance to the Guild for quite some time," he told them. "Mercer wasn't hiding his excesses very well. Gallus was certain he had been removing funds from the Guild's treasury."

"Did it say anything about Maven Black-Briar?" Selene asked.

"No, nothing."

"This was twenty-five years ago," Karliah reminded her. "When Mercer killed Gallus, Maven was a young woman, pregnant with her first child. Her father was still the head of the family back then. Enthir, does the journal mention the Nightingales?"

"Yes, the last few pages talked about the failure of the Nightingales, but it didn't go into great detail. Gallus did mention that he believed Mercer had desecrated something called the Twilight Sepulcher."

Karliah's grayish skin paled, and she looked aghast. Her scent flooded with dread. "Shadows preserve us," she whispered.

"Karliah, what is it? What's Mercer Frey done?" Enthir demanded, fear seeping into his own scent.

"I'm sorry, Enthir; I can't say. We have to go now. We have to get this journal into the Guild's hands. My friend, words can't express..."

"Words aren't necessary, Karliah." Enthir turned to Selene. "Karliah says you have some influence with Brynjolf. Do what you can to make him understand. She doesn't deserve this, and the truth must be revealed."

"Thank you, Enthir. I will. Keep the Falmer translation. It might come in handy."

"I'll make you a copy. Look for me next time you're in Winterhold. Also, if you ever need to get rid of something stolen, pay me a visit. I've been known to handle items of questionable interest from time to time. I'll see what I can do."

"Let's go," said Karliah. "We must hasten to Riften before Mercer can do any more damage to the Guild."

"I just hope we can fix the damage he's done already," Selene muttered grimly as they left the inn and headed south.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	11. A Nightingale's Tale 11: Reunion

A Nightingale's Tale 11

Reunion

If the circumstances had been better, Selene and Karliah might have had a grand time. They clicked, falling into easy conversation, hunting, and other tasks as if they had been traveling together for years. They made good time and went farther the first night than they had expected.

Trying to keep the mood light, they steered their conversation away from Mercer's betrayal as much as possible and discussed other aspects of their lives. Being a thief—and a Nightingale—was in Karliah's blood. She had learned—through Gallus, ironically—that she was the granddaughter of Queen Barenziah, who had been seduced by a Nightingale in order to learn the location of an artifact called the Staff of Chaos. The daughter that was born from the union searched for her father for years, and when she finally found him he taught her his ways and inducted her into the Nightingales. Karliah already knew about Selene's relationship with Brynjolf, so Selene shared the fact that she was the Dragonborn, which Karliah found fascinating and asked all the expected questions. She also discussed the Companions and the Stormcloaks, even Ulfric, about whom Karliah had a dozen more questions. Normally, Selene would keep such things to herself, but she understood why Gallus felt he could let his guard down with Karliah. Her manner, her speech patterns, and her willingness to talk about her own history made Selene feel she could trust the Dunmer.

The biggest, heaviest question was, "Did you love Ulfric?"

"Yes," Selene admitted, "but not enough. The difference in our philosophies was enough to come between us, and I've learned since then what real, all-consuming love feels like. You asked me once if I'd ever known someone who was bigger than life. That was Ulfric. But imagine living with someone like that every day. I need somebody to be my friend, my partner—my equal."

"Your soul mate."

"Aye, my soul mate. And that's Brynjolf."

"Then he'll believe you. But I must tell you, Selene, you're bigger than life yourself. You're the Dragonborn, and you're easily Ulfric Stormcloak's equal."

"It didn't feel that way. It _doesn't_ feel that way."

"And that's the difference between you and Ulfric. Brynjolf will never have to feel inferior to you because you know the meaning of humility. Something I'd wager Ulfric had trouble with."

Selene laughed. "Aye, he did, at that."

Later that evening, the conversation turned back toward Mercer and the journal.

"Gallus's journal talked about the Twilight Sepulcher," Selene mentioned.

Karliah shrugged. "Well, you've come this far. I see no harm in revealing the rest. Besides, if events continue on their current path, you may learn more about it than you ever planned. The Twilight Sepulcher is a temple to Nocturnal. The Nightingales are sworn to protect it with their lives."

"Why does it need that type of protection?"

"This isn't just an everyday temple where anyone can come to worship. Everything that represents Nocturnal's influence is contained within the sepulcher, including a conduit between our world and hers."

"Thieves and temples? Those aren't things one normally equates with each other."

"I think given time you'll come to understand what I mean. I'm afraid that's all I can tell you for now. As a Nightingale, I'm sworn to secrecy regarding the sepulcher, and I've probably told you too much already. All I can do is ask you to trust me a little longer."

"Just don't betray that trust."

Karliah smiled at her. Something came to mind, and she got up and ducked into the tent. When she emerged, she held a sword, which she held out to Selene. "This belonged to Gallus, but under the circumstances, I think he'd approve. It steals life when it injures the enemy."

"Karliah, I'm honored. I'll put it to good use."

"If the Guild isn't willing to listen to reason, you may have to."

"Don't even think like that. I know them; they're my friends. And Brynjolf, he'll...I won't lose faith in him. Whatever Mercer has told him, he'll at least give us a chance to explain."

* * *

Not knowing what they were getting into, Selene and Karliah felt it was best to come into town late at night and draw as little attention as possible. Getting to the cistern undetected was unlikely, but the fewer people who knew they were there, the better. It was nearly midnight when they walked into a cold, dark Honeyside from the balcony door. Selene lit a couple of candles, but not enough for the light to be seen outside the window, and put a few things away. Nothing in the house seemed any different from when she had gone except the bed. She had made it before she left, but someone had messed it up. She sat down and sniffed the sheets and blankets; Brynjolf's scent was all over them, and it was relatively fresh. By the way his scent covered her pillow and the position it rested on the bed, she surmised that he had held it like a doll. The faint smell of salt made Selene wonder if he had cried over her. Perhaps he hadn't believed Mercer after all.

"Selene, are you all right?"

"Brynjolf's been sleeping here."

"I know this is difficult, but we should go and get this over with."

"You're right. Let's go."

A chill wind whipped down the back alley to the Guild's cemetery entrance. When Selene pressed the button to open the secret door, nothing happened. It had been locked.

"They know we're coming," Karliah mused.

"Maybe they saw us coming into town. We were careful to remain hidden, but maybe somebody saw us anyway and told Mercer." They skirted around the plaza and took the stairs down to the Ratway. Selene hesitated at the door to the Flagon.

"Are you ready for this?" Karliah prodded.

"I'm just trying to figure out what to say if Mercer is there."

"We stick to the plan and give Brynjolf the journal. Remember we have proof; Mercer only has his word."

"All right." She opened the door and stepped through.

The Ragged Flagon was empty except for Vekel, who swept the floor, and Dirge, who stood at the entrance with his arms folded and blocked their way. "You've got a lot of nerve, Selene."

"Come on, Dirge. Do you really think I'd come back if I were guilty of whatever it is Mercer said I did? To say nothing of bringing Karliah with me. Let me in so we can clear all this up. Please."

The bouncer glared at her but stepped aside. She walked past him with Karliah following, ignoring the dirty looks they were receiving from Vekel as they passed through the tavern and the false panel in the pantry.

When they entered the cistern, they were met by three very angry thieves wielding daggers. The scent of fury permeated the air. Brynjolf stood between Vex and Delvin, face red and eyes blazing, his knife trained on Selene. He looked as if he was a hair's breadth away from springing on her and stabbing her to death. "You'd better have a damn good reason to come in here with that murderer," he growled.

"Of course I do, love."

"Please," Karliah said, "lower your weapons so we can speak. You've all been misled, Brynjolf. I can prove it."

Brynjolf's eyes never left Selene's, but his expression went from angry to questioning, and Selene understood his unspoken question: _Was it you?_ She shook her head earnestly, and he lowered his dagger. "No tricks, Karliah, or I'll cut you down where you stand."

"No tricks," she promised. "I have Gallus's journal. I think you'll want to see its contents."

Brynjolf took the journal and read as Delvin and Vex put their weapons away. "No, this can't be right. I've known Mercer too long. I'd have known he was up to something this big."

"It's true, Brynjolf. He's been stealing from the Guild for years."

"Where have _you_ been all this time?" he asked Selene as he paged through the diary.

"I've been getting that translated. Gallus wrote it in Falmer."

"Did he, now?" He closed the book and looked up at her. "There's one way to find out if what the lass says is true. Del, I'll need you to open the vault." He turned and stalked across the cistern toward the vault, the rest of them hot on his heels.

"Bryn, what's in that book?" Delvin demanded. "What did it say?"

"It says Mercer was stealing from the Guild. Gallus was looking into it before he was murdered."

"Yeah, but that was a quarter century ago. He can't be doing it now. How could he even get into a vault that needs two keys?"

"He couldn't pick it," said Vex. "That door has the best puzzle locks money can buy. Even _I_ can't pick it."

"He didn't need to pick the lock," Karliah interjected. Delvin looked at her as if she'd grown horns.

"Del, use your key on the vault," Brynjolf said. "We'll open it up and find out the truth."

Delvin used his key on the lock and stepped back. "Yep, still locked. Now use your key."

Brynjolf unlocked the door and stepped into the vault. Alarm flooded his scent and he shouted, "By the Eight! Get in here, all of you! It's gone—all of it!"

They followed him into the vault to see the walls lined with racks and chests, all empty.

"That son of a bitch!" Vex snarled. "I'll kill him!"

"Vex, put it away right now," said Brynjolf. "We can't afford to lose our heads."

"But how'd he get it all out?" Delvin wondered. "There's a dozen thieves out there."

"He had ways to get past them," Karliah remarked.

"Didn't pick the lock? He had ways? Just what are you on about?"

"Del," Brynjolf cut in, "you and Vex go tell the rest of the Guild what's happened and watch the Flagon. If you see Mercer, come tell me right away."

Delvin followed Vex from the vault, and Brynjolf gazed into Selene's eyes.

"I'll just wait outside," Karliah muttered uncomfortably before slipping out the door and closing it behind her.

They stood and stared at each other for a moment, and then Brynjolf reached for Selene and threw his arms around her, holding her close and burying his face in her hair.

"Brynjolf—"

"Don't. Just let me—" He strengthened his hold on her, and Selene could have sworn she noticed a faint sob, but when he pulled back, his eyes were dry. He still held tightly her, and he leaned in and kissed her hungrily. "I thought I'd never taste your lips again," he whispered.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't come back until I had proof."

"I didn't believe him. I trusted him too much to think he was lying, but I was sure he was wrong about you. He _had_ to be wrong because you just wouldn't do the things he said you did."

"What did he say?"

"He said you were working with Karliah to bring the Guild down. She did all the planning and the outside work while you infiltrated the Guild and did what you could to sabotage it from the inside. He said Gulum-Ei hadn't told you about Karliah, but you had told him that to get him to Snow Veil Sanctum for an ambush. He said Karliah got away, but he fought you to the death."

Selene cocked an eyebrow indignantly. "He said _he_ beat _me_ in a fight to the death?"

"And he said your last words were a taunt to me. 'Give Brynjolf my regards.'"

"No, love, I swear."

"I know. It's all right; I know."

"Actually, Karliah did set up an ambush—"

"But you didn't. I knew you wouldn't betray me—the Guild."

"Your scent and the look on your face when we walked into the cistern said otherwise, Bryn. You were ready to kill me."

"I suspected you just long enough to draw my weapon. But when I looked into your eyes, I knew. Please forgive me for doubting you."

"There's nothing to forgive. I'm just sorry it took me so long to get back to you. I had to go all over Skyrim for that translation."

"You didn't happen to go to Whiterun, did you?"

"Aye, Lydia and the twins know I'm alive. I asked them not to tell you because I didn't know what Mercer had told you, and I was afraid—"

"—my knowing you were alive would make it worse. It's all right, love. I understand." He kissed her again before releasing her. "Very well, then. Tell me everything you learned from Karliah."

"Mercer killed Gallus; you probably figured that."

Brynjolf nodded. "In his journal, Gallus sounded like he was close to exposing Mercer. Anything else?"

"Gallus, Mercer, and Karliah were Nightingales."

"What? You're kidding. I always thought the Nightingales were just a myth."

"No, and apparently Mercer broke some pretty serious oaths with his betrayal. There's one more thing, Bryn. Maven is involved."

"Involved how?" he asked, his eyes hard.

"I think she's partners with Mercer. Even he said it. Do you remember the night before I left for Snow Veil Sanctum? We were at the Bee and I eavesdropped on a conversation between the two of them. Maven said 'she' couldn't be allowed to live because she could ruin all they had worked for. I thought she was talking about Karliah, but she was talking about me."

Brynjolf recoiled as if she'd slapped him, and began pacing the floor. "This changes things," he murmured.

"How?"

"Bringing Mercer to justice is going to be hard enough, but Maven is on a completely different level. Whatever we do, we have to take extra care to protect ourselves, because she has a very wide reach."

"Then what do we do?"

He stopped and regarded her for a moment, then said, "We take them one at a time. As far as Maven is concerned, it's business as usual. We tell her as little as possible about the situation with Mercer. She'll know, but only what he's told her. For now, let's keep you out of sight as much as possible, so she'll still think you're dead. After we get Mercer, then we'll take care of her. Did anyone see you come into town?"

"A handful of guards, maybe Balimund; he was working late."

"We'll just have to hope none of them mentions you to Maven."

"Taking care of Mercer first will also give us time to figure out what we're going to do about her. I suppose taking out a Dark Brotherhood contract would be out of the question."

Brynjolf chuckled. "She's used them so many times, I think they're actually on a monthly retainer."

"So we set Maven aside for now. What's next?"

"We need to break into Mercer's house."

"Mercer has a house in Riften?"

"Aye, it was a gift from Maven. It's called Riftweald Manor; it's just down the path from the cemetery. He doesn't stay there, just pays some thug named Vald to guard the place. If he's hiding something, he's likely to think no one would look there."

"I'm on it. What's the best way in?"

"Didn't I just tell you to lie low?"

"You said it's down the path, which means I can go down the back alley from the graveyard. I doubt anybody will see me, certainly not Maven. Besides, who have you got that's better?"

"Vex would argue that _she's_ better."

"That may or may not be true, but Vex is angry right now."

"Vex is _always_ angry—"

"When you're angry you can't focus as well, and you know it."

"Selene, this is the last place in Skyrim I'd want to send you—"

"Brynjolf, you can't start being overprotective. Just because you almost lost me doesn't mean I'm any less capable of getting the job done."

"You're right, you're right," he relented. "You're never gonna let me win an argument, are you?"

"I will when you're right."

"Okay, I'm not sure of the layout—I've only been there a few times—but after you get past Mercer's watchdog, I'd say your best bet is the ramp to the second floor balcony in the backyard. Mercer had it installed in case he needed a quick escape. I'd bet a couple of arrows from below would lower the ramp."

"And the watchdog?"

Brynjolf chuckled. "That'd be Vald. Talk to Vex. She used to know him very well, if you catch my meaning. She should be able to give you tips to work around him." He wrapped his arm around Selene's waist and pulled her close. "Be careful at Mercer's place, love. When he told me he had killed you, I...I just died. I can't lose you again."

She placed her arms around his neck and kissed him softly. "I said before that I'd always come back, remember? I'll be careful."

When she and Brynjolf emerged from the vault, Karliah waited by Mercer's desk. Selene squeezed the Dunmer's hand. "We're still alive!" she marveled. The elf chuckled in response. "I'm off to Mercer Frey's house. Brynjolf will give you the details."

"Take care, my friend."

"I will." She stopped in at the Flagon to sell her rare items to Delvin and discuss Vald with Vex.

"Vald! That pig? Oh, I have info, all right. Where do I start?"

"How do I get on his good side?"

"Vald doesn't have a good side, and the only thing he cares about is gold. I doubt you could buy him off, though, at least not for a reasonable amount. He's in some major debt with Maven Black-Briar. Your best chance is to settle that debt."

"No can do. I need to keep Maven out of this. In fact, Maven isn't even supposed to find out I'm alive."

The pixie-faced Imperial looked at her, wide-eyed. "You have got to be kidding me. She's in with Mercer?"

"Picked up on that, did you?"

"Well, then I'd say you should just run him through and be done with it. Nobody'll miss him; _I_ certainly won't care. And listen, while you're at Mercer's place, feel free to help yourself to anything of value."

* * *

Vald did a regular circuit around Mercer's very small backyard, stopping at various locations and standing for a moment, back to the wall and eyes on the yard. There was no way to sneak around him; he would have to die. Thus, she pulled her sword and waited in the shadows just outside the gate. When he stopped at the gate and turned away to watch the yard, she stabbed him in the back. With a muffled "oof," he fell to the ground. She withdrew the sword and picked the gate's lock, then wiped the blade on the fur of Vald's armor before sheathing it. The dead sentry didn't have much on him, only a single gold piece, a half-eaten slice of cheese, and the house key, which she retrieved.

A set of stairs led up to a landing, which was separated from the balcony and house by the ramp Brynjolf had mentioned. The ramp was raised like a drawbridge. The mechanism that lowered it was under the awning, and a lever protruded from the gears just waiting to be activated. Selene drew her bow and aimed carefully for the lever, taking a deep breath and squinting down the length of the arrow. She released the arrow, it hit the lever, and the ramp fell to the landing with a thud. She ascended the stairs and used Vald's house key to get inside.

It was evident that Mercer hadn't used the house much. A couple of bandits appeared to have taken up residence, but there wasn't much of value, just a statue of Dibella, some gems, and a few gold pieces. She took care of the bandits and pocketed the gold and gems. In a room off the kitchen, Selene found a couple of wardrobes set into the wall. After investigating the murders in Windhelm, she had gotten into the habit of checking wardrobes for false back panels, and one of the cabinets had just such a panel. The door opened onto a flight of stairs, which led down into Riften's sewers.

The tunnels were loaded with traps; Mercer obviously wasn't taking any chances. She came upon a room in which the entire floor was made up of fire-jet pressure plates. There was usually a pattern to the plates so those in the know could walk through easily; but not knowing the pattern and reluctant to use her Become Ethereal Shout in case she wasn't alone, Selene could do nothing but make a run for it. She whispered a quick prayer to Kynareth and darted across the floor to the opposite doorway, getting singed in the process but not sustaining any serious burns. In the next hallway was another pressure plate, but this one was easy to go around.

In a niche off the corridor, Selene found a chest containing a large sack of coins. It wasn't as big as the one she had brought back from Solitude, but there were at least a couple hundred gold pieces inside. She tied the sack to her belt and silently thanked Mercer for finally sharing his wealth.

She turned a corner, and though she didn't appear to set off any traps, more than half a dozen pendulum blades started swinging in the following hallway. There was no lever to stop the blades, and they all swung separately so there was no easy way to get through them. "Gods damn it," she muttered. "Okay, fine. _FEIM ZII!"_ With the Shout, she instantly felt weightless, and when she looked down at her hands, she could see right through them. Confident the blades would no longer hurt her, Selene took off running. Two or three of them caught her but passed through her ethereal body harmlessly. By the time the effect wore off, she was on the other side. Fortunately, neither bandits nor Mercer awaited her.

More stairs led farther down into the sewer. At the bottom, she found a heavily trapped door and set about disarming it. The mechanisms were complicated and took several long minutes to work through. She even set one of them off and had to leap out of the way as a sharp spike burst from the wall. Fighting frustration, she finally managed to disarm all the traps and open the door to find Mercer's office.

All the valuables missing from the rest of the house were present in the office. She found several flawless gems, a large pile of gold, and an enchanted glass sword that glowed blue instead of the normal malachite green. It was fantastic. She smashed the display case housing the sword, picked it up, and tucked it under her belt.

On the desk, she found what she was looking for. Mercer had detailed his plans on a rather large piece of parchment, complete with a drawing depicting the statue of a seated person with a circled X and an arrow pointing at its eyes, a map of the Dwemer ruin Irkngthand, and notes on how to locate and retrieve the Eyes of the Falmer. Selene smiled. "Oh, Bryn's gonna love this," she said softly as she rolled the parchment and stuffed it in her pack. There was also an item on the desk that Delvin would like. It was a bust of the Gray Fox, the leader of Cyrodiil's thieves guild. It sat proudly on Mercer's desk, its face obscured by the Gray Cowl of Nocturnal, just waiting to be liberated from its moldy dungeon. Resolving not to pick anything else up short of the crown jewels, Selene lifted the bust and exited the office through the far door.

Down yet another flight of stairs, Selene found a drainage hole in the floor leading down to the next level. The drop wasn't far and she could make it easily, but one of Delvin's Shadowmarks had been carved into the stone next to the hole, warning of danger. The area at the bottom was silent, and Selene sniffed the air and picked up no scents, so she figured the coast was clear. However, she worried about the bust of the Gray Fox. It was only plaster, and a six-foot drop onto a stone floor would probably shatter it. She dropped the glass sword and her knapsack first, then lowered the bust as far as she could before dropping it. "Please don't break," she whispered, "please don't break." The bust hit the pack and rolled off unharmed, and Selene leapt down and retrieved her items. She looked around and realized she was in the Ratway Vaults, only a few steps from the door to the Ragged Flagon.

She found Brynjolf standing at Mercer's desk in the cistern, paging through a log book and looking frustrated. He looked up and started to reach for her, but he noticed the bust and peered down at it. "Have I been replaced already?"

"There's something about him, but he just doesn't have your...ahem...warmth. I got this for Delvin." She set the bust on the desk and drew the glass sword. "I thought you might like this."

Brynjolf's eyes lit up as he took the sword from her. "Chillrend! It's one of Mercer's most prized pieces. I've coveted it for years."

"It's yours, then."

"Thank you, love. I'm afraid I didn't get you anything."

"Maybe I can take it out in trade later."

"Ah, it's a win-win!" He tucked Chillrend under his belt and became serious. "There's no sign of Mercer anywhere. We've scoured the town, and I've spoken to every contact I could locate."

"Except Maven."

"Sapphire and Vipir are checking out Black-Briar Lodge. Unfortunately breaking into Black-Briar Manor is out of the question, so we won't know if he's there. Any luck on your end?"

Selene smiled and nodded, then dug into her pack and produced Mercer's plans.

Anger seeped into his scent as he studied the page. "Shor's beard! He's going after the Eyes of the Falmer!"

"Enthir—the elf who translated the journal—said Gallus was working on something that would involve knowledge of the Falmer language. I take it this is it?"

"It was his pet project. Do you know what the Eyes of the Falmer are?"

"I've never heard of them."

He pointed to the statue depicted in the plans. "Twin jewels, bigger than your head, set into the giant statue of an ancient snow elf king. Lass, if Mercer gets his hands on those, he'll be gone for good. He's taken everything the Guild has, and to go after such a heist—especially one Gallus planned—is a slap in the face."

"Then we'll stop him. And perhaps we can get the eyes while we're at it—an homage to Gallus."

Brynjolf smiled at her and caressed her cheek. "I love you."

"I love you, too. Where did that come from?"

"Sometimes I think you can read my mind."

"Sometimes I can. What's next?"

"I spoke with Karliah and apologized for how the Guild treated her, and she's happily rejoined us. She said she wishes to speak with you and me, though. I think she has a plan."

"Let's not waste any time, then. Hopefully her plan will allow us a little alone time, though, don't you agree?"

"I certainly do, my love."

He took her hand and led her across the cistern, where the dark elf waited with a proposal that would change their lives.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	12. A Nightingale's Tale 12: Choices

A Nightingale's Tale 12

Choices

Karliah was sitting on one of the bunks that lined the perimeter of the cistern, writing in a journal. She put the journal away and stood to meet Selene and Brynjolf when they approached. "Brynjolf," she began, "since we have no Guild Master, you should be the one to decide Mercer's fate."

"There's no question. He tried to kill both of you, he murdered Gallus, and he took everything from the Guild. He needs to die."

"We will need to ready ourselves and meet him on equal footing. Are you prepared to do what it takes to ensure that happens?"

"Aye, lass."

"Of course," said Selene.

"Just outside Riften, beyond the South Gate, is a small path cut into the hillside that leads up to an old standing stone. At the bottom of that path is a cave. Get some rest, then me after sunset and I'll tell you my plan."

* * *

They were barely inside the door at Honeyside before they were grabbing on to onto one another, kissing, kicking off their boots, and working at the buckles of each other's armor. When both jackets and undershirts were on the floor, Brynjolf kicked a chair out of the way and lifted Selene up to sit her on the kitchen table, and she brushed a plate and a couple of mugs onto the floor to make room. She threw her arms and legs around him and pressed herself against the solid muscles of his chest, drinking in the taste of his lips and tongue, moaning softly as he squeezed her breast and ran his thumb over her nipple. His hardness pressed against her, and she undid the laces of his trousers, and slipped her hand inside.

"Sweet Dibella," he gasped as she stroked his length. She kissed his neck and breathed in his rich, heady scent, the smell of his desire alone almost enough to make her climax. He reached for the laces of her pants and untied them, and she propped up on her hands as he pulled them down over her hips, discarded them behind him, and wriggled out of his own.

Their need was too great to bother with teasing, or even moving to the bed. One moment Brynjolf was tugging at Selene's trousers, and the next he was inside her, telling her how good she felt. But it was an awkward position on the edge of the kitchen table, and she needed to adjust. "Wait a second."

He reluctantly pulled out of her and she slipped off the table. Once both feet were on the floor, she turned around and bent over. "You have the most beautiful arse," he murmured as he played his hands over the curves of her bottom and then slid into her from behind. "Is that better?"

"Aye. Oh, gods!" she wailed as he slammed forcefully into her, holding so tightly to the edge of the table that she was surprised it didn't buckle. It felt as though each stroke would push her through the solid oak. She rocked back to meet his thrusts, every nerve in her body singing as their bodies met. The tension built to almost painful heights before it exploded within her and she screamed, and it was only a moment before he cried out as well.

Spent and breathless, he slowed and then withdrew. Selene rested her head on the table for a moment, her heart thudding in her ears, until her breathing slowed to near normal. She stood up and leaned back against him; and he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck, then gathered her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, where he unceremoniously dropped her on the covers with a wicked laugh.

Selene giggled as she burrowed into the soft bedding. "The man lugs me around like a sack of potatoes!"

He lay down next to her and pulled her close. "Well, so much for not letting anyone know you're here," he teased. "I'm pretty sure they heard us all the way across town."

"I'm sorry."

Brynjolf chuckled. "Are you apologizing because you scream when we make love?"

"Aye, I am."

"Well, don't. It's the loveliest sound I've ever heard." He leaned in and tenderly brushed his lips across hers.

She rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes, and she found she couldn't open them again. The weight of her arms and legs was suddenly too much to lift. "I'm tired," she mumbled.

"Then get some sleep, love."

"Don't think I'm gonna have much choice..."

* * *

Selene awoke to the smell of food cooking. She reached for Brynjolf, but he wasn't in bed, so she opened one eye to see him standing at the fire, serving up a bowl of stew.

"You cooked," she observed as she sat up.

"Aye, but then you went to sleep, so I had to find something else to do. Come have some supper. I had to actually cook the meat to put in the stew; I hope you don't mind."

"Oh, I suppose it's okay." She crawled out of bed and reached into her wardrobe for a dress, which she threw on before digging a pair of socks out of a drawer and donning them. She took a sip from a tankard of warm mead he had left for her and sniffed at the stew as she sat down at the table. "This smells fantastic," she said as she took her first bite. "Mmm, it _tastes_ fantastic."

"I don't know what Marise Aravel does to spice her beef, but it makes an excellent stew." He kissed the top of her head and sat down across from her.

"It's probably something we don't want to know about. Did you know she uses ice wraith teeth to preserve her foods?"

"Makes sense, I guess." He took a bite of stew and washed it down with swallow of mead, and then said, "I wanted to talk to you about something."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing like that. Karliah and I had a long conversation while you were at Mercer's place, and I want to make you an offer. If not for your efforts, we might never have caught on to Mercer. After we deal with him and Maven, all that remains is restoring the guild to its full strength, something I have no doubt you'll be instrumental in helping along. As a result of that, Karliah and I both feel that you might be a good replacement for Mercer."

"What? Me? Bryn, you should replace him; everybody knows that."

"I've been at this a long time, my love, and I'm good at what I do, maybe even one of the best. But it's all I know. I'm not a leader."

"You are, but I understand how you feel. Why are people always trying to get me to run things? They tried to make me Harbinger of the Companions, too."

"And you said no because you were younger and didn't know what you wanted to do with your life, no? You didn't plan on making Whiterun your permanent home."

"No, I—well, I guess."

"But what about now?"

She leaned across the table and kissed him. "I just might stay here forever."

"Then the Guild is yours. I'll help you; you know that. I make a great lieutenant."

"Bryn, I don't know what to say."

"Well, we still have errands to run before your coronation, so don't get sentimental on me yet."

"I was already sentimental."

* * *

Still resolved to keep Selene's presence a secret from Maven if at all possible, they left Honeyside through the balcony entrance and walked around the outside of the city, staying close to the wall and out of sight. They met Karliah at the foot of the hill leading up to the standing stone, and she led them to a cave with a wooden door at the entrance.

"What is this place?" Selene asked her.

"This is the headquarters of the Nightingales. Only here can we get the edge we need to defeat Mercer Frey."

"What kind of an edge?"

"If you'll follow me, I'll explain on the way."

She opened the door and stepped inside, and Selene looked helplessly at Brynjolf, who shrugged and followed Karliah into the cave.

"So this is Nightingale Hall, eh?" Brynjolf said as he shut the door behind him. "I heard about it when I joined the Guild, but I always thought the Nightingales were a myth."

"That story was perpetuated on purpose. It helped divert attention from our true nature."

"What _is_ your true nature?" Selene asked.

"Gallus, Mercer, and I were what was known as the Nightingale Trinity. The Nightingales are part of the Guild indirectly, as members are usually selected from within, but our true purpose is a closely guarded secret. We serve Nocturnal directly and protect the Twilight Sepulcher."

Karliah led them to a large, empty room that had once boasted elaborate stonework, but years of disuse had turned it into little more than a ruin. A footbridge crossed a stream and led up to a living area containing a bed, table and chairs, and a few of Karliah's personal possessions. It looked like Karliah had been staying there quite a while. "This is Nightingale Hall," she announced. "You're the first of the uninitiated to set foot here in over a century. It doesn't look like much now, but with your help I intend to restore it to its former glory. Now, if you'll both proceed to the armory to don your Nightingale armor, we can begin."

She led them through a narrow doorway to a room that was empty except for a platform holding three small, stone pillars. Each pillar bore a symbol depicting a stylized nightingale with its wings surrounding a black circle. "Place your hand on one of the stones," she instructed them.

Selene touched the stone in the center, and a drawer popped out from what appeared to be solid rock.

"What the—" Brynjolf exclaimed, evidently as surprised as she was when the stone he touched did the same.

In the drawer was a set of armor. Selene pulled the cuirass out and examined it. It was made of layered leather and had an unusual shimmer to it. Where most enchanted armor glowed with some sort of light, this armor seemed to absorb the light. The pants, gloves, boots, cowl, and cape all had the same anti-glow as the cuirass. They were soft, and Selene didn't see them offering much protection, but when she put them on, the leather hardened. It was still supple enough for easy movement but strong enough to safeguard against all but the most vicious attacks. She had seen magical armor before, but this was like nothing she had ever come across. It fit perfectly, as though it was made especially for her. Looking over at Brynjolf, she saw that his armor fit as well, accentuating his muscles nicely.

"You look incredibly hot in that armor."

"So do you, lass." Brynjolf slipped the cowl over his head, and his eyes became tiny points of light. He was also hard to see. Although he was standing right in front of her, it was if her eyes didn't want to see him. The more she looked at him, though, the more she was able to sense him, feel him, almost as if she were physically touching him. He turned to Karliah and froze for a moment, as though he was trying to find her. "All right, Karliah," he said after a moment, "we've got these getups on. Now what?"

She motioned for them to follow, and she led them down a long hallway to another room, the entrance to which was blocked by a gate. "Beyond this gate is the first step in becoming a Nightingale."

"Whoa, there, lass! I appreciate the armor, but becoming a Nightingale was never discussed. I'm no priest, and I'm certainly not religious. Why pick me, anyway?"

"Serving Nocturnal isn't about religion, Brynjolf. It's business. To hold any hope of defeating Mercer, we must have Nocturnal at our backs. If she's to accept you as one of her own, an arrangement must be struck."

"There's always a catch. What are the terms?"

"Nocturnal will allow you to become a Nightingale and use your abilities for whatever you wish. As the Nightingale Trinity, we will also have a cognitive connection. Although the armor makes us harder for others to see, we will be able to sense each other, either up close or from great distances, and even if we're invisible."

"Invisible?"

"This comes in handy if one of is us lost or captured. In return, in both life and death, you must serve as a guardian of the Twilight Sepulcher."

"For how long? Forever?"

"Until Nocturnal determines that the debt has been paid."

Brynjolf stood silent for a moment, glanced over at Selene, and then looked back at Karliah with a heavy sigh. "Very well. If it means an end to Mercer Frey, you can count me in."

"What about you, Selene? Are you ready to transact the oath?"

"Aye, I'm ready."

"Good. After I open the gate, each of you will please stand on one of the vacant circles."

They entered a chamber containing a shallow pool. An island in the center bore the Nightingale symbol and three footbridges leading to smaller islands. Karliah walked across the center bridge. Brynjolf took Selene's hand. "This is enough to make your head spin, eh, lass?"

"Aye, but I don't see a choice, do you?"

"None." He squeezed her hand and took the footbridge on their right, and Selene went across the one on the left. The platform was also carved with the Nightingale symbol.

When they were all in place, Karliah lifted her arms and said, "I call upon you, Lady Nocturnal, Queen of Murk and Empress of Shadows. Hear my voice!"

A soft hum filled the room, and a nimbus of blue light appeared above the large island in the center. It pulsed and oscillated, and while it had no real shape, Selene got the impression that it was facing Karliah.

"Ah, Karliah," a disembodied voice drawled. "Lose something, did we?"

The elf dropped to her knees. "My lady, I've come to throw myself upon your mercy and accept responsibility for my failure."

"And you expect forgiveness with nothing in return? You know it doesn't work that way. You're already mine. What else could you possibly offer me?"

"I have two others who wish to transact the oath."

The cloud shimmered, and Selene felt eyes on her. "That one belongs to Hircine," she accused.

Brynjolf's head turned sharply toward Selene, and she could just imagine his eyes widening. Oh, she was in trouble. How could she have been so stupid? She didn't have time to worry about an explanation now, though. "Technically, I belong to Kynareth and Akatosh, milady."

"Yes, you do divide your loyalties, don't you? Well, it's time to choose, little one."

Hircine and Kynareth's words came back in a rush. They had said someone would try to force a choice, and now was the time. "I was told concessions were to be made for the Dragonborn."

Nocturnal laughed softly. "Dragonborn. Do you think you can defeat Alduin?"

"I don't know, milady. I'm not even sure who Alduin is at this point, but it's been implied that I'm the only one who can and that more was at stake than I understand yet."

"You were told true. Concessions must be made because defeating Alduin will serve us all. But know this: if you transact the oath today, you _will_ serve me directly, whether it be in your time or mine."

"I understand."

The nimbus turned back to the elf. "You surprise me, Karliah. You knew nothing of that one's loyalties, so your terms were heavily weighted in my favor. What do you get out of this, aside from my forgiveness?"

"I get Mercer's demise, Your Grace."

"Revenge, eh? How interesting. And you, Brynjolf?"

"I seek the same, milady."

"And you, Selene? Do you seek to avenge your Lady Nocturnal and your Guild?"

"Aye, milady."

"The conditions are acceptable. You may proceed."

Karliah stood up. "Lady Nocturnal, we accept your terms and dedicate ourselves to you as both your avengers and your sentinels. We will honor our agreement in this life and the next until your conditions have been met."

"Very well. I name your initiated 'Nightingale,' and I restore your status to the same, Karliah. In the future, I would suggest you refrain from disappointing me." Nocturnal disappeared, and the three Nightingales met on the center island and removed their cowls.

"Karliah, will you excuse us for a moment?" Brynjolf asked, never taking his eyes from Selene.

"Of course."

He took hold of her arm and practically dragged her through the gate and into the corridor.

Selene looked sheepishly at him. "I guess I owe you an explanation, huh?"

Brynjolf glared at her, anger permeating his scent. "Perhaps just a small one. I know what it means to be bound to Hircine. When were you planning to tell me you were a werewolf?"

"I swear by all the Divines, love, I wasn't keeping it from you intentionally. It's been part of me for so long, I honestly didn't think about it, especially with all that's been going on. I'm so sorry."

"Selene, that's not something you just forget!" he shouted. "I suppose it makes sense, though. You eat your meat practically raw, and you're always sniffing me and talking about my scent. And you growl in your sleep. You'd think I'd have picked up on it, right? So is there anything else you've conveniently forgotten to mention? Any other daedric princes or Divines that are gonna come knocking at your door?"

"Sometimes they talk to me in my sleep."

"Lovely. What do they say?"

"Lately, they've been telling me it was necessary to allow me to divide my loyalties because I was the Dragonborn. Kynareth has talked to me before, though, just to help guide me on my path."

He laughed bitterly and ran a hand through his hair. "Anything else?"

"No, there's nothing else," she muttered. "Do you hate me now?"

"No, I don't hate you. I just...we need to get back in there and deal with Mercer."

"Bryn—"

He raised a hand to stop her. "Don't. Not now." He turned and walked back to Karliah, who was still standing on the island, looking uncomfortable. "Sorry, lass."

Karliah nodded. "Now that you've transacted the oath, it's time to reveal Mercer's true crime."

"There's more?" Selene asked incredulously.

"Oh, yes. Mercer was able to get into the vault without two keys because of what he stole from the Twilight Sepulcher: the Skeleton Key."

"I take it the key opens any lock."

"Well...yes, but there's much more. The key isn't restricted to physical barriers; it can also tap into unknown abilities, great powers that are sealed within our minds. Once you understand how the key can access these traits, the potential becomes limitless. Imagine being able to fly, to literally walk through walls, to control the minds and actions of others. Mercer probably just walked right through the cistern with the contents of the vault and made anyone present forget they had seen him."

"By the Nine," Selene muttered.

"Nobody should be able to wield that kind of power," said Brynjolf.

Relief flooded Karliah's scent. "I'm glad you feel that way, because this is about more than just Mercer's lust for power. The Skeleton Key holds open the Ebonmere, which is the gateway between Nirn and Nocturnal's realm in Oblivion. By taking the key, Mercer compromised our ties to her and caused our luck to run dry. I know you don't believe in luck, Selene, but it does exist. Our uncanny luck defines our trade. If the key is not returned, the Guild's luck will finally run out altogether."

"It's the first time I've ever set out to return something," he mused.

"Indeed."

"Heh, old Delvin was right when he said we were cursed."

"In a manner of speaking, yes, we are."

"I've looked over Mercer's plans, and I think our next move is Irkngthand. From his notes, it does appear that he believes the Eyes of the Falmer are there."

"Do either of you have any preparations to make before we leave?" Karliah asked.

Selene shrugged. "Only minor ones. We can leave at first light if you're amenable."

"That's fine with me. I'll come to your house first thing in the morning, and we can set out from there." Karliah started back down the corridor toward the residence.

"Are you coming with me?" Selene asked Brynjolf almost timidly.

"I have some thinking to do, so I'm going back to the cistern. I'll see you in the morning." He turned and walked out of the room, leaving her standing on the island feeling more alone than ever.

Selene left Nightingale Hall and went south into the woods. She found a safe place to put her armor, then undressed and shifted. A howl broke from her throat, and she ran through the woods as fast as she could. She hunted, she swam in the river, and she gazed up at the moons as they rose above the Jeralls, believing this might be the last time she saw them in beast form. Brynjolf would surely want her to make a choice—either him or her inner beast. Concessions might need to be made for the Dragonborn, but Bryn shouldn't have to make them. If he asked her, she would choose to take the cure, to become human again for the man she loved.

That was, if she didn't lose him altogether. Werewolves were widely hated and feared; she had no reason to believe Brynjolf would think she was anything less than a monster. And even if he didn't, the fact remained: she had deceived him. She had always been so cynical, believing the worst in people, and she didn't trust easily. She had looked out for herself and didn't care what anybody thought. But in the last couple of years, her hard edge had started to wear off and she was more open, more considerate of others' feelings and opinions. And she had left herself vulnerable. Brynjolf didn't trust easily, either, and even though she hadn't intended to keep her nature from him, he would see her deception as a betrayal, and he wouldn't easily forgive her for it. She looked up at the moons and let out a mournful wail, thinking she probably wouldn't forgive herself, either.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	13. A Nightingale's Tale 13: Irkngthand

A Nightigale's Tale 13

Irkngthand

Selene got home an hour before sunrise and packed supplies for the journey, then ran over to the Scorched Hammer to borrow Balimund's grindstone and sharpen Gallus's sword. She wanted to use it instead of her own sword if she was to go head-to-head with Mercer. It felt like justice.

When she was ready to leave, she went out to the balcony with a mug of warm mead to wait for Bryn and Karliah. A deer meandered along the lakeshore, stopping occasionally to take a bite of grass. The sun was just rising, and though the townspeople were probably already up and around, they hadn't come out of their houses yet and the city was still quiet, still peaceful. The only sounds were the chirps of a few morning birds, the occasional splash of a salmon jumping in the lake, and a boat bumping up against the dock it was moored to. Selene didn't have many moments like this. There was always something to do, someone to fight, a dragon to kill, an item to steal—a lover to apologize to—too many things vying for her attention. It was nice to just _be_ for a moment.

As if thinking about apologizing to Brynjolf had summoned him, he came through the house and stepped onto the balcony. He carried a knapsack and bedroll on his back, and Chillrend was at his belt. He pulled his hood off and sat down next to her.

"Morning."

"Karliah isn't here yet?"

"No." He didn't say anything else, and after several minutes of uncomfortable silence, she asked, "So you're not speaking to me now?"

"I'm not really sure what to say." His voice was measured, emotionless, as if he barely knew her.

"Just tell me what's on your mind. I'm a big girl, Brynjolf."

Before he could answer, Karliah came around the corner of the house at the bottom of the stairs and climbed up to meet them. "Good morning, Nightingales," she said. "Shall we go?"

Brynjolf was quiet for much of the first day, and Selene didn't try to force anything on him. They had a job to do, and they would do it. For now, they would do what was necessary—they would get to Irkngthand and put an end to Mercer Frey. _Then_ they could have it out. The easy camaraderie Selene shared with Karliah was contagious, however, and Bryn didn't brood for long. They spent much of their travel time talking and telling stories, and sometime on the second day, Karliah asked the big question.

"What's it like, being a werewolf?"

Selene waited for Brynjolf's reaction, but he didn't react. His scent didn't even change. He simply waited for her answer.

"I hardly even know how to describe it. I'm stronger and faster in beast form. My sense of smell is greatly enhanced, even in human form, and that comes in _very_ handy."

"But what is it like? How does it make you feel?"

"It makes me feel...free. Normally, when I'm in beast form, I'm able to shed all the cares of my human life and just forget about them for a while. All that matters is the hunt. And the moons."

"Does it hurt?" Brynjolf asked. "Changing to beast form, I mean."

"Aye, but not as bad as you might think. Plus, I'm used to it."

"When did it happen? When did you become a werewolf?"

"Two years ago on my birthday. Seems like so much longer."

"So the Companions are werewolves, then?"

Selene stopped walking and gave him a harsh look. "Why would you assume that?" she asked defensively.

"Because you were with them two years ago. Besides, there were always rumors." He started walking again, and she and Karliah followed. His scent still hadn't changed. He wasn't baiting her; he was just continuing the conversation Karliah had started, satisfying his curiosity, and hinting that he might not have been as surprised as he let on. The problem was the lack of emotion. It made Selene feel like a lab specimen. "Then again, if you can't talk about it..."

Selene shrugged. "I probably shouldn't, but I trust you both. Only Farkas, Aela, and I are werewolves. Vilkas was cured; the rest are dead."

"Why was Vilkas cured?"

"He wants to go to Sovngarde when he dies instead of Hircine's Hunting Grounds."

"So there _is_ a cure?" Still no change in emotion.

"Aye, there is. For a few, anyway."

"For you?"

"If I want it."

With that, he changed the subject.

The Nightingales had to deal with two troops of bandits, a wolf pack, and a dragon on the way to Irkngthand, and by the time they left the main road and headed down the last trail, the experience had solidified the trinity into a cohesive team. They would get even more experience before they entered the ruin, because Selene smelled more bandits on the way in.

Ducking behind a fallen turret, Selene told them what they were up against. "I picked up three distinct scents," she whispered. "One is outside the gate; the other two are close by. That doesn't mean there aren't more of them I can't smell farther in, though, so we should take care. I'll let you know if I pick anyone else up."

They made their way through a gauntlet of bandits, bear traps, and toppled stonework to get to the main entrance, only to find it blocked by ages-old rubble. Someone had built a network of footbridges across turrets and roofs, however, and they finally worked their way up to a secondary entrance. The small, bronze door opened onto a vestibule leading into an amphitheater. Several levels of benches and staircases surrounded a circular center stage, all of them littered with moss-covered stone and crushed columns. Some bandits had made camp on the stage, but they had been brutally slaughtered.

"Mercer," Karliah hissed.

They traveled through the hall and out the other side, where they passed several dwarven spiders lying shattered on the floor. Selene thought of the spider control rod she had taken from the Dwemer museum and wondered if she should have kept it instead of selling it to Delvin. Having a pet spider doing her bidding could have been very beneficial. They navigated well-lit corridors and rooms full of ingenious traps, all the while serenaded by the clanging and hissing of machines that still operated for their long-dead masters. Their purpose was anyone's guess, but the pistons still pumped, the mechanisms still turned, and steam still sprayed through the vents. They didn't have any trouble until they came upon a room that contained three rotating pillars, each spewing jets of fire as they spun.

"How do we get past that?" Brynjolf grumbled.

"The fire jets are at chest level," Selene noted. "We should be able to crawl under them."

The heat was incredible, but they managed to crawl below the jets relatively unscathed. Once they were able to get to their feet again, they followed a rambling corridor until it came out onto a straight passage bearing an alchemy lab, which was surprisingly stocked with a few potions and fresh mushrooms. Karliah started to stow the potions in her bag, but she stopped and put them back.

"What is it?" Selene asked her.

"I decided I didn't want to take the chance that Mercer had filled the bottles with poison and placed them here knowing I would pick them up."

"Good call."

Down the hall, a mechanical spider popped out of its recess and came at them, but Selene dispatched it with an arrow before it got anywhere near them. Next to the alchemy lab, they found an elevator with a bear trap set at the entrance.

"Mercer has been here," said Brynjolf. "You may have been right about the potions. We should tread carefully. There's no telling what sorts of surprises he left for us.

The Nightingales stepped into the elevator, Brynjolf pulled the lever, and they descended for what seemed like miles into the depths of Irkngthand. They emerged onto an enclosed balcony overlooking a massive chamber. Selene moved up to the grating and peered out at the room, which contained impossibly high ceilings, a couple of levels of ramps and walkways, and some unwanted company.

"Falmer," Selene sighed. "All dwarven ruins seem to have them."

"Wait!" Karliah exclaimed. "There's Mercer!"

Far below, Mercer Frey had just appeared through a bronze door and was sneaking up on one of the deformed snow elves.

"I'm on it." Selene drew her bow, but the grate was too narrow to get a shot through.

Mercer looked up at them and saluted just as he reached around and slit the Falmer's throat.

"He's toying with us! I think he wants us to follow."

"Then, let's keep moving," said Brynjolf.

They found a doorway at the end of the balcony and went on through the maze of corridors. They found large, gooey globs of speckled orbs stacked in a corner.

"What is that?" Brynjolf wondered.

"Chaurus eggs," Selene replied. "Keep an eye out. They're larger than you are with harder chitin than a mudcrab and big pincers, plus they spit poison. The Falmer keep them as pets. Them, skeevers, and frostbite spiders."

"Perhaps someone should tell them a dog is a more amiable companion."

By and by they entered another huge, multilevel chamber. This one was maybe a hundred feet high with what appeared to have once been large doorways set into the wall far above the main floor, possibly apartments or offices. There was a lot of tumbled stone as usual, but there was also a cage with an operational ballista in one corner.

"Look at the size of this place," Brynjolf marveled. "Have you ever seen anything like it in your life?"

"Can't say that I have," Karliah responded. "Imagine the riches hidden within these walls!"

"They're all like this," said Selene. "I've been in a few of them, and they're bigger than most cities I've been to. They're filled with bronze, gems, weapons...we could be set for life just by looting one ruin. If we had a way to carry all we found, that is."

They came in on the third level of the chamber, but there was no way to get farther up. The only way was down, and there was only one exit. It was closed off by a gate and guarded by two Falmer, which Selene and Karliah took out with their bows.

"Let's look around for something that will open that gate," Karliah recommended.

Selene found a lever on the top level next to the far wall of the chamber, and when she pulled it, the gate opened. By the time they reached the lower level, however, the gate had closed. "Well, that's inconvenient."

"Up there," Brynjolf pointed. There was an identical lever on the other side. "Perhaps they both have to be pulled. You two operate the levers, and I'll stay down here in case something comes through the gate once it's opened."

Selene and Karliah each went to a lever and pulled, and the gate stayed open. They joined Brynjolf on the lowest level. It looked as though a battle had taken place between some Falmer and dwarven sphere guardians; there were several of each lying dead on the ground. Selene was heading toward one of the spheres to check for soul gems when she heard the sound of a machine starting up and the familiar whir of the spinning blade trap. Before she had the chance to react, Brynjolf threw her to the floor, and the blade whipped over their heads.

Karliah screamed.

Selene and Bryn crawled out from under the blade and saw to Karliah, who had sustained a deep gash in her shoulder.

"Gods, Karliah," Selene muttered as she pulled away the Dunmer's tattered armor and examined the wound, "any higher and that thing might have decapitated you."

"See? Our luck's changing already. We don't have time to stitch me up. You said you had a healing spell; just use that."

"All right, but it's not very good." She held her hand over Karliah's bleeding shoulder and concentrated her magical energy. A white light appeared in her hand, and she passed it over the shoulder. It didn't close the wound completely, but it did patch it enough to stop the bleeding. In the meantime, Brynjolf had found a healing poultice in Selene's pack. He handed it to her, and she dabbed a bit onto the gash. Finally, she handed Karliah a healing potion. "Drink up. It'll help with the pain."

"And dull my senses. I'm fine, Selene."

"You're a stubborn one, aren't you, lass?" Brynjolf quipped.

"I just know my limitations, and I haven't reached them. Let's get moving."

Giving the trap a wide berth, they passed through the room and moved on. They fought a handful of Falmer in the next chamber, which was nearly as big as Riften. They all received scrapes and bruises in the fight but nothing to slow them down, and Selene wondered how Mercer had managed to get past the creatures. She was just about to say something about it when the ground shook violently, and a tower farther up the path collapsed into dust.

"The only reason he'd do that would be to block pursuit," Karliah muttered.

"Mercer was able to knock that whole thing down?" Brynjolf croaked. "Gods!"

"It's the key, Brynjolf. In his hands, there's no telling what he's capable of."

"First, it seems he wants us to follow, and then he's blocking our way," said Selene. "I don't get it."

"Perhaps we were getting too close."

The trinity found a long corridor where Mercer had set bear traps. They were easy to spot, and Selene had to wonder why he had even bothered. By stopping to set traps, he was only slowing himself down. The next enormous hall was, again, full of Falmer, and they fought their way through. Selene looked over at Brynjolf at one point and noticed a big smile on his face. He was taunting and teasing the Falmer he fought, and he let out a little cry of glee when he finally made the killing blow. He might like to say he was no warrior, but he was enjoying this battle. After they had killed all the Falmer, a skeever came running up out of nowhere and attacked Selene, biting a chunk out of her thigh before she even realized it was on her. Uncharacteristically startled, she squealed and swung her sword, but she missed. Bryn was suddenly right there with her, swinging Chillrend fiercely to decapitate the animal.

"My hero," she cooed.

"Heh, that's what you get when you cross the Guild!" he spat at the dead skeever.

Selene giggled. "Bryn, you're so full of shit." Karliah laughed, too, and Selene began to realize they were _all_ enjoying themselves. They fought well together, and they had a good time doing it, despite the severity of their mission. It felt nearly the same as it did when she was with the Companions, but there was more to it, something more personal. They weren't just shield-brother and –sisters; they were part of each other, and their proximity to each other made them all stronger. Selene could just imagine all the things the three of them could accomplish together.

Karliah pointed to the enclosed balcony on an upper level. "This is where we saw Mercer. We must be getting close."

They went through bronze doors at the back of the hall, leaving the brightly lit Dwemer ruin and entering dank, musty caves. The stench was terrible.

"Ugh, this place reeks of Falmer," Brynjolf groaned.

"Tell me about it," Selene muttered.

"I probably don't have any room to talk, eh? Must be loads worse for you."

"It's all right; I'm used to it."

They came upon a large cave that was loaded with Falmer, and Karliah suggested sneaking through, but Selene shook her head. "Never leave an enemy alive behind you. Besides, I doubt even _we_ could sneak through this nest. They may be blind, but their other senses make up for it."

During the ensuing battle, Brynjolf finally got the opportunity to see one of the dreaded chaurus up close—_too_ close, unfortunately, because it dug its pincers into his side before he could duck out of the way. It was Selene's turn to save him, and she buried Gallus's sword in its head just as Karliah was killing the last Falmer.

"My heroine," he said with a grin, which quickly turned to a grimace. He sat down on a rock and searched his pack for a healing potion.

"Let me see that." She lifted his cuirass to see the gash and dug in her pack for more of the poultice. He gasped with pain when she pressed the ointment onto the wound, which seemed to be turning green. She looked up at his face; a pallor had fallen over his features and a cold sweat was breaking on his brow. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit nauseated, if you want to know the truth."

"Uh-huh." She reached in her pack and found one of her precious poison cure potions. "You've been poisoned. I didn't think their pincers had venom. Did it spit on you?"

Brynjolf shrugged. "It all happened pretty fast. Ugh!" He turned and dove from the rock, crawling away and throwing up on the ground nearby.

"It acts fast," Karliah observed.

"Come on, Bryn, try to drink the potion. It'll help."

He came back to them and leaned against the rock, resting his head on it. He took the potion from Selene and forced it down, holding his hands over his mouth to try to keep it from coming back up. "We don't have time for this," he choked out after a moment.

"We'll make time. You can't fight Mercer like this anyway, and I'd die before leaving you here. Just give it a few minutes."

While they waited for the potion to work, Selene took the time to stitch Karliah's shoulder, which had begun to ooze, and then they looted the Falmer's tents. They got a couple of soul gems and a few bottles of poison out of the venture. When Brynjolf started to feel better, they left the nest and passed into a long, winding tunnel with pipes running overhead, carrying water.

"We must be underneath a lake," Karliah observed.

Selene pulled the map out of her pack and looked at the area. "There's a lake a few miles north of the ruin, near Nightgate Inn. Do you think we've gone that far?"

"It's so hard to tell; so many of the passages wind this way and that and take us up and down."

"Let's not talk about moving this way and that, shall we? I'm still a bit queasy."

"Apologies, Bryn. But I suppose it's possible."

The damp rock and moss of the caves began to give way back to the bronze and stonework of the dwarven ruin, and they came upon a set of bronze doors with a bear trap set in front of them. Although Mercer's scent had been faint throughout the trip, it was much stronger here. He was right behind these doors.

"He's close," she told them.

"Then this is it," said Brynjolf. "We do this for Gallus and for the Guild." Selene stepped around the bear trap and reached for the door handle, but Brynjolf caught her around the waist and pulled her to him. He lifted his cowl and hers. "I love you," he whispered, and he placed a tender kiss on her lips.

Selene realized he wasn't just making up with her. He was saying goodbye.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	14. A Nightingale's Tale 14: Eyes Open

A Nightingale's Tale 14

Eyes Open

"I love you, too," Selene told Brynjolf in response to his implied farewell, "but we're going to get through this. Don't give up on me now. Even with that blasted key, he's just one person, and there are three of us. Mercer won't leave this place alive."

"I'm not so sure _we_ will, either."

"We will. We have to; I've got plans for you."

Bryn kissed her forehead and, without letting go of her, reached out and took Karliah's hand. Selene took the other.

"Eyes open, walk with the Shadows," Karliah said softly. "Are you ready, my friends?"

"Aye, lass."

"Let's go."

Selene replaced her cowl and swung the doors inward onto a cavern housing the giant statue from Mercer's drawing. It was easily fifty feet high and depicted an ancient snow elf—possibly a king, judging by the unusual crown he wore—seated cross-legged and holding an open book. The Falmer's ancestor wasn't twisted and bent; he was regal and handsome, a testament to the stature of the great race before the pain and tortures the dwarves had inflicted on them over Divines knew how many years. Mercer was clinging to the face, which was taller than he was, prying the right eye out of its socket. The left was already in the sack that sat on the figure's collar, and the socket it came from, oddly enough, was dripping blood. A closer look, however, revealed the bodies of several dead Falmer littering the statue. The blood probably belonged to Mercer or one of them.

"He's here, and he hasn't seen us yet," Karliah whispered. "Brynjolf, watch the door."

"Aye, lass, nothing's getting by me."

"Selene, let's climb down to that ledge and see if we can—"

"Karliah, when will you learn you can't get the drop on me?" Mercer called.

The ground shook, and the platform Selene was standing on crumbled beneath her feet. She landed fifteen feet below, dropping Gallus's sword, and rolled to a stop. Shaken but with no further injuries, she got up quickly and brushed herself off, then picked up the sword and sheathed it. She looked up at Mercer to find him peering down at her.

"I see you survived Snow Veil Sanctum. I knew you were special when Brynjolf first brought you to me. I also knew you would bring changes and that it would end with one of us at the end of a blade. What's Karliah been filling your head with, little girl? I see you're wearing the Nightingale armor, so she's obviously introduced you to Nocturnal. Don't tell me you believe the hype. Nocturnal doesn't care about you or anything having to do with the Guild."

"This isn't about Nocturnal," Brynjolf snarled from the ledge above. "This is personal."

"There's more to it than that," Selene corrected him.

"What, the Skeleton Key?" Mercer scoffed. "Did Karliah tell you stories about thieves with honor, about Lady Luck, and how the key has to be returned or the Guild will perish altogether? It's bullshit, Selene. Nocturnal doesn't care about the key. And you need to open your pretty blue eyes and realize how little my actions differ from yours. Both of us lie, cheat, and steal to further our own ends. There's no such thing as 'honor among thieves.'"

"Wow, and I thought _I_ was cynical. You're wrong, Mercer."

"Well, it's clear that you'll never see the key as I do. You can't imagine the power this artifact wields. It's a source of unlimited wealth and power."

"And danger. And evil."

"Or is that why you want it? To keep for yourself? No, instead, you've chosen to fall over your own foolish code of honor."

"I won't be the one to fall today." She drew the sword.

"Is that Gallus's sword? Trying to kill me with irony, eh? Karliah and Brynjolf, I'll deal with you after I rid myself of your irksome companion. In the meantime, let me give you something to keep you busy."

Above Selene, it sounded as though Brynjolf and Karliah were fighting each other, but she couldn't see over the ledge to find out what was going on.

"What's happening?" Brynjolf cried. "I can't stop myself!"

"Damn you, Mercer!" Karliah roared. "Fight it, Brynjolf. He's taken control of you."

Mercer vanished, but it didn't matter much to Selene. She couldn't see him, but she could smell him, and it didn't take long to pinpoint his location. He was bearing down on her quickly. When he was close enough, she swung her blade, and with a painful, "Oof!" he appeared before her, blood streaming down his arm. He returned the blow and connected with her side. Dizziness threatened to overtake her, and she swooned, trying not to pass out. The enchanted sword had drained life as well as blood, and it only compounded all the other minor injuries that were starting to take their toll. Mercer disappeared again and tried to back away, but Selene followed his scent and kept after him. Another tremor shook the cavern, and water started to stream in from the lake above. Selene ignored the water and stayed on Mercer until the invisibility wore off and he stopped in front of her.

"How do you do that?" he howled with frustration. "How could you see me?"

"I couldn't see you; I could smell you."

Above them, Karliah grunted in pain, and Brynjolf whined, "I'm sorry, lass!"

"Mercer, stop this," Selene pleaded as she parried a thrust from his sword and swung back at him.

"Why would I do that? If they kill each other, I won't have to worry about them. I can kill you and be on my way."

"Mighty confident, aren't we?"

"You're nothing to me, Selene! Your death will come swiftly at my hands!"

"Keep telling yourself that right up until you die, Mercer."

He swung at her and she ducked the blade, but it still caught her shoulder and she experienced the same dizziness as before. But Gallus's sword drained life, too, and she made the next move count. She faked a swoon, and as Mercer was coming around for another blow, Selene stepped quickly to the right and plunged the blade into his abdomen. It went all the way through and pushed out the back with a spray of gore. Mercer's eyes went cold and his jaw slackened. "Shadows, take me," he groaned. When Selene removed the sword, all light left his eyes and he fell into the rising water.

Still a bit dizzy, Selene wiped the blood from Gallus's sword and sheathed it. Water was streaming into the cavern in several locations, and Mercer's body was already floating.

"Quick, Selene!" Karliah called. "Get the Skeleton Key and the eyes, and let's get out of here!"

She caught hold of Mercer's body and took the sack that held the Eyes of the Falmer, then searched his pockets until she found the key. "Got them. I'm on my way up."

"The door is blocked, lass. We'll have to find another way out."

But there _was_ no other way out. All other exits had been blocked or destroyed long ago. "Get to the top of the statue," Selene said, "the highest place possible." She climbed a set of stairs that led up the side, but there was no point. Brynjolf had been right in saying goodbye. They were going to drown in this cave with the giant, eyeless statue as the only witness. When Bryn reached her, he took her hand. There was no fear in his eyes, just sadness, and she leaned in to kiss him.

The lake was right above them. If there was only some way to break through the roof, maybe they could swim out...

More of the ceiling came down, and Karliah shouted, "Up there!" They followed her gaze to a large opening in the wall. "Perhaps it leads out of here."

"We'll have to wait until the water is high enough and then try to swim out," said Brynjolf. "Give me the sack with the eyes, love."

Selene gave him the heavy sack and a kiss, and then they waited. When the water finally rose and began to cover them, Selene shuddered. It was freezing. But there was nothing to do about it but endure. She squeezed Brynjolf's hand one last time before letting go and starting to swim, and in only a few moments the water had lifted them up to the hole. One by one, they took deep breaths and swam into the opening. The tunnel went underwater for just a few yards before opening up into a chilly, but dry, cave. The Nightingales waded to the shore, then dropped to the ground and lay panting and shivering, cold, wet and exhausted.

As she rested, Selene tried to assess what had just happened. The ceiling had opened precisely when they needed it to, just as she had been wishing for it. Had it been luck, as Karliah had been telling her? Had it been Kynareth protecting her Dragonborn? Or had it been the Skeleton Key? Selene had the key in her pocket; maybe she made the ceiling cave in just by wishing for it. She reached into her pocket and drew out the key, lifting it up to inspect it. It was a pretty little thing, made of brass and bearing a pommel stone of onyx with a conch-shell pattern painted in a pleasant, sea green. A power emanated from the key not unlike that of other enchanted items, but this one was much stronger, and it was seductive. Holding it made Selene feel like she could do anything. And if what Karliah said was true, she pretty much could. Brynjolf was right: nobody should have that much power. There was no question; the Skeleton Key had to go back where it belonged.

After a few minutes, Karliah reached into her pack and brought out three frost-resist potions, handed one each to Selene and Brynjolf, and drank the third. The potion took the edge off the cold, and they finally got up and started to move around. Daylight streamed through an opening in the cave a short distance from their resting place, and Brynjolf went to inspect it.

"There's an exit just around that corner," he announced when he returned. "Smoke is rising in the distance; I think Nightgate Inn might be just over the hill from here. What do you say we head there, dry off, and warm up?"

"And lick our wounds," Selene muttered.

"I think that's a fine idea," said Karliah.

"I do, too."

They skirted around the north side of the lake and found a path leading up to the inn. Hadring, the innkeeper, rented them rooms, and although they had nothing dry to change into, just sitting by the fire with tankards of warm mead was a welcome relief.

"I'm beginning to think I'll never be warm again," Karliah groaned as she held her feet out to the fire. "You Nords have built-in cold resistance. I've never gotten used to the weather."

Hadring approached them carrying a pile of clothing. "I found some extra things you might be able to wear," he offered. He handed Karliah and Selene dresses and stockings, and he gave Brynjolf a tunic, trousers, and socks. "I can't vouch for the fit, but at least they'll do until your other things are dry. Other than the orc who rents the cellar room, there's no one else here, so feel free to use the space near the fire pit to dry your belongings."

"Thank you, Hadring," Selene said, clasping his forearm and then racing to her room to change out of the wet leather as Brynjolf and Karliah slipped into their rooms to do the same. While she was in her room, she took the time to clean out her knapsack. There was very little in the pack that was vulnerable to water, so she didn't lose much, just the map and a small journal she'd begun keeping. She hung the empty pack over the bedpost and took her armor, a change of clothes she had brought, and her bedroll out to the common room and hung them on chairs by the fire. She sat down next to her fellow Nightingales, who had done the same, and Bryn handed her a fresh mug of warm mead.

"I can't believe it's finally over," Karliah remarked. "Twenty-five years, and just like that, it's done."

"One simple task and we can get back and deal with Maven," Selene commented. "I want to return the Skeleton Key as quickly as possible."

"I'm afraid it's not simple. Before the Skeleton Key was stolen, we had a portal between Nightingale Hall and the inner sanctum and Ebonmere, but when Mercer took the key and the trinity was disbanded, our access was removed. The only way to get it back to its proper place will be through the Pilgrim's Path."

"What's the Ebonmere again, and what's the Pilgrim's Path?" Brynjolf asked.

"The Ebonmere is the conduit between our world and Nocturnal's realm of Evergloam, held open by the Skeleton Key. It has been in Skyrim longer than recorded history, and the sepulcher was built around it in order to shield it from those who would misuse its power. It's through the Ebonmere that we get our luck. As for the Pilgrim's Path, even though Nocturnal doesn't desire worship in the traditional sense, the Twilight Sepulcher did have a small group of priests. They never came into contact with Nocturnal directly, but they insisted they had her favor." She scowled with disdain. "They created all sorts of baseless rituals and ceremonies on her behalf, and one of them was the Pilgrim's Path. It was a 'test of worthiness.' It was said that if a pilgrim could complete the path, they would live forever in twilight."

"What in Oblivion does that mean?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, Brynjolf."

"Well, didn't all that interfere with the Nightingales?"

Karliah shook her head. "The priests weren't a threat to the Skeleton Key or the Ebonmere, so they were tolerated. Essentially, we stayed out of each other's way. Thus, I've never taken the Pilgrim's Path. I have no idea what you'll go through, Selene."

"What _I'll_ go through? What about you two?"

"Brynjolf needs to get back to the Guild to keep order while you're away. As for me, I can't bear to face Nocturnal after my failure to protect the key. Look, I've been a Nightingale for a very long time and have had many profitable years. But falling in love with Gallus was wrong. It was that distraction that allowed Mercer to desecrate the sepulcher and likely cost him his life."

"Karliah, you can't take the blame for Gallus's death. _Mercer_ is to blame, no one else. And how can you say falling for him was wrong? How can that _ever_ be wrong?"

"I understand your sentiment, but until the Skeleton Key is replaced, I will never set foot inside that place again."

Selene seethed. In a short time, the elf had become a dear and trusted friend, but with this, she proved once again that people would always disappoint. In that brief moment, she lost all respect for Karliah. Brynjolf stared at Karliah, not saying a word. Selene stood up. "Well, since I seem to be taking the last leg of the quest solely on my shoulders, I guess I'd better get some rest."

"Selene—" Brynjolf began.

Selene put a hand up to stop him. "Don't." She set her tankard down on a table, then went to her room and slammed the door. The stress of the search for Mercer, the issue with Brynjolf over her being a werewolf, the feeling that Karliah was no better than everyone else in her life who had disappointed her, the pain of a dozen wounds, and complete exhaustion overwhelmed Selene, and she curled up on the bed and sobbed.

She didn't even realize when Brynjolf entered the room; he was just there. He lay down next to her and took her in his arms, stroking her hair while she cried. She clung to him, slowly gaining strength from the closeness and the warmth of his body. When her tears were finally spent, she sniffled, wiped her eyes, and sat up. "I feel like such an idiot, crying like a baby."

"Letting it all out will do you good."

"I know I'm overreacting."

"I don't think you are. I understand Karliah's fear, but that doesn't mean I think it's right. It's cowardly, and I told her as much. I am going to the sepulcher with you. We can go to Riften first and talk to Delvin and Vex, and _they_ can keep order while we're away. And if I was a betting man, I'd wager you were dwelling on her comment that falling in love with Gallus was a mistake and wondering about us. What we have is not a mistake. I won't abandon you, love. Ever."

She lay back down and rested her head on his chest. "I thought I'd lost you."

"Never. I just thought it better to keep my distance than say something I would regret."

"I'll remember that for next time. Bryn, I'm so sorry I didn't tell you I was a werewolf."

"It's all right, love. I understand that, too."

"If it makes a difference, I'll get the cure."

"I wasn't angry because you were a werewolf. I was angry because you kept it from me. If you don't want to be cured, don't do it for me. Your sense of smell actually turned out to be quite an asset, didn't it?" He tapped her playfully on the nose. "Just don't lie to me again."

"I won't. I love you."

"I love you, too. Now, get some rest."

* * *

Karliah awaited them in the common room the next morning. "I'd like to try explaining myself better," she said to Selene, who sat down next to her.

"I think you explained it pretty well."

"You can't know what it's like to walk in someone's light and suddenly have it yanked away because of your own inadequacy."

"Oh, I can't? Karliah, we've all failed someone. In case you forgot, the first leg of this trip was tense because I had failed Brynjolf. But if we're fortunate, that person forgives us, we learn from our mistake and move on. Nocturnal has already forgiven you for failing to protect the Skeleton Key, and you're back in her favor. There's no reason to fear going back."

"You make it sound so easy."

"Well, then, think about this," Brynjolf said, pulling up a chair and joining them. "You got us into all this knowing full well you had no intention of going back to the sepulcher with the key. You lied, and you used us to do something you were too cowardly to do yourself. We're all responsible for the key, and sending Selene off to the Twilight Sepulcher alone is a betrayal. I hate to say it after all the hard work you did to get reinstated in the Guild, but if we can't trust you for something as important as this, I'm not sure I _want_ you back in the Guild."

"Brynjolf—" Selene began.

"No, Selene, he's right. I apologize. I let my fears get in the way of a job that the three of us must do together. I will go to the Twilight Sepulcher with you if you'll still have me."

"Of course we'll have you."

"Brynjolf?"

"Aye, lass. It's the way it should be.

"Very well, my friends. But know this: the thought of going back there is still almost too much to bear, so I'll need lots of encouragement."

"I think we can help you."

She reached out and took their hands. "Eyes open..."

"Walk with the Shadows," they answered.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	15. A Nightingale's Tale 15: Pilgrim's Path

A Nightingale's Tale 15

The Pilgrim's Path

Delvin Mallory laughed with delight when the Nightingales stood before him and Brynjolf placed the Eyes of the Falmer on the table. "Ha-ha, those are beautiful! Bigger than I thought."

"We thought we'd sell one and keep the other as a trophy," Selene explained.

"Will do. I'll put one on the shelf and talk to Tonilia about fencing the other." He glanced from one to the other expectantly. "So it's done?"

"It's done," Brynjolf assured him.

"Maven's been asking questions."

"What sort of questions?"

"Mostly of the 'where's Mercer' sort. And 'where's Brynjolf?'"

"We'll need to think of something to tell her before we leave again," said Selene.

"Again? Where you off to now?"

"We can't say, Delvin," Karliah answered.

"Well, why not?"

Brynjolf leaned on the table and looked his friend in the eye. "Del, you know I wouldn't keep anything from you unless it was absolutely necessary. All I can tell you is that all three of us have to go as soon as possible and we'll probably be gone a couple of weeks."

"Anything to do with that fancy new armor you're sportin'?"

"Perhaps."

"All right, then. Vex and I can hold the fort a little while longer."

* * *

The trinity rested in the cistern for the night, and the next morning Selene and Karliah retreated to Nightingale Hall while Brynjolf dealt with Maven and replenished their travel supplies. He met them in the hall just after noon, loaded with arrows, potions, food, first aid supplies, and changes of clothing.

"Maven is very unhappy," he told them as they packed their gear. "After Snow Veil Sanctum, Mercer barely had any contact with her. He told her Selene was dead, then he spoke to her once or twice with little more than a 'hello,' and he didn't even tell her when he left town."

"He was playing it close to the vest," Selene observed.

"Aye, but it made me wonder just how involved she really was in the whole business."

"He murdered his best friend; we can't put betraying Maven past him. Still, we'll find out for sure before we do anything rash. What did you tell her when she asked where he was?"

"I told her we didn't know where he was either but that I had a lead on his location. She thinks I'm off looking for him. She also still thinks you're dead, love."

"What about me?" Karliah asked.

"Your name didn't come up, so I don't know what she knows. For the time being, I think it best that we leave you out of it entirely."

"I concur."

Selene closed the straps on her pack. "Now that we have that taken care of, let's get going. This key makes me nervous."

* * *

The Twilight Sepulcher was on the very western edge of Falkreath Hold, nestled in the mountain far off the main road and across a little stream. Brightly flaming braziers stood on either side of an iron door.

"Looks like somebody's here," Brynjolf remarked.

Karliah shook her head. "The flames never go out."

Selene reached for the door, and it swung inward easily. As they stepped inside, she had the strangest sense of welcoming and warmth, as if she were coming home from a long journey. Then again, perhaps she was. A long, winding tunnel opened onto a huge, empty hall with a wide staircase going up the center. A ghost stood at the bottom of the stairs. When he saw them, he approached. Karliah's scent went wild with emotion.

"Welcome, Nightingales," he said in a clear voice.

"G-Gallus?" Karliah whispered.

"I haven't heard that name in many—Karliah? I'm so glad to see you! I feared you had befallen the same fate as I and ended up a victim of Mercer's betrayal."

"No, my love, but I spent many years in exile."

"As have I. I've defended the Sepulcher alone for what seems like an eternity. But you still live. You _all_ live. Why have you come here?"

"We have the key, Gallus."

"The Skeleton Key! I never thought I'd see it again. And what of Mercer Frey?"

"Dead," Brynjolf said.

"Then it's over and my death wasn't in vain. I owe you a great deal, Nightingales, as does the Guild."

"Mercer's not here?" Karliah asked.

"No one, living or dead, has entered the Sepulcher in quite some time. I assumed there were no Nightingales after us."

"Not until now. This is Selene and Brynjolf."

Selene pulled the Skeleton Key from her pocket and held it out to the specter. "Take it, Gallus, and right all the wrongs."

"Nothing would give me more pride, but I'm afraid it's impossible. When the key was taken from the Ebonmere, the source of the Nightingale sentinels' power was cut off. The others have wasted away until they're shadows of their former selves. They no longer remember their purpose or their original identities. My spirit didn't manifest itself here immediately after I died, so I wasn't present when the Ebonmere was sealed. Still, ever since that day, I've felt myself...well...dying. The years without restoration of my power have taken their toll, and the damage can only be corrected by following the Pilgrim's Path and replacing the key, a quest which I may not undertake."

"It's not only the damage here that needs to be corrected," Karliah commented. "The Guild has suffered as well."

"I'm not surprised. With the Ebonmere closed, I would imagine the Guild's luck has run dry."

Selene rolled her eyes. "You people are determined to make me start believing in luck, aren't you?"

"No one is questioning your skill, lass," Brynjolf assured her, "but luck does play a large part in a thief's life."

"Yes," said Gallus, "and Nocturnal influences our luck. Think about your life as a thief and things that have happened to you—finding an extra lockpick just when you needed it; a guard who stubbed his toe and was moments late on his rounds, giving you the time you needed to get away. Our access to these bits of luck is what separates us from common bandits. There are a few who still call Nocturnal 'Lady Luck' and with good reason. Now think about the state the Guild is in and all the little things you might have heard—a pick breaking when it shouldn't have, the clouds in the nighttime sky clearing at the wrong moment."

"We should go," Selene told the others stubbornly.

"Any idea what we'll be facing?" Brynjolf asked Gallus.

"I'm afraid not. I've been a prisoner in this very chamber since I arrived. However, you might check the remains of the poor fellow next to the east wall. Perhaps his journal can help."

Selene and Brynjolf went over to the east wall, where they found a skeleton and his journal. The journal said he and someone named Anders had posed as priests of Nocturnal in order to infiltrate the Sepulcher and get at the wealth located in the inner sanctum. He was given a mentor, who told him about five "tests" they would encounter the Pilgrim's Path.

"We have the journal," Selene told Karliah when they rejoined her and Gallus.

"Thank you, my love," said Karliah.

"Good luck, Nightingales."

Selene and Brynjolf ascended the stairs, and Karliah reluctantly left her lover behind and trailed after them. They followed a wide, stone corridor that wound down to an iron door.

"What's the first test?" Brynjolf asked Selene before he opened the door.

"'Shadows of their former selves, sentinels of the dark. They wander ever more and deal swift death to defilers.' That's obviously the Nightingale sentinels. We'll to have to fight."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Karliah warned.

"I went to Ysgramor's tomb once—well, more than once, but that's not the point. My shield brother said the spirits of the original five hundred Companions would challenge us and we were _supposed_ to fight them. They were challenging us to see if we were worthy. I would imagine that's how the Nightingale sentinels are, too."

"Or how they once were," said Brynjolf. "If they don't remember their purpose, we can't predict how they'll act."

The door opened onto the balcony of a small room with two levels and many arched doorways, most of which were closed off. Two were open and led to a reading nook containing a few books and potions. A single sentinel ghost awaited them at the bottom of the stairs, and Selene took her out with one arrow. They continued out the other side past a weird, throne-like structure and through long, heavily trapped tunnels.

In a staircase so dark they could barely see in front of their faces, they had to fight two more sentinels. Selene defeated one, but not before she took a hit to her shoulder, an arrow penetrating and pushing through to the back. Uncharacteristically, she screamed.

As Karliah dispatched the other sentinel, Brynjolf went to Selene's side. "Let's take a look, love. There's some light at the top of the stairs. Can you make it up?"

"Aye." She followed him upstairs and sat on the floor beneath a torch, trying to control the panic that threatened to swell up within her. This wasn't so bad; she'd had much worse. But the thought of the arrow going all the way through her body scared the daylights out of her. Hot tears welled in her eyes.

Brynjolf examined the wound and the arrow, Karliah looking over his shoulder. "That's gonna leave a mark," he mused. He pressed the flesh around the arrow gingerly. "See, this is what we're on about. It looks like the arrow completely missed any bone. It's all soft tissue. That's hard to do in this part of the body. You know what that is? It's luck."

"It's my burn shoulder."

"Eh?"

"You've seen the scars." She turned to Karliah. "I was burned several times on the same shoulder. And I think I was shot once before, too. I've lost track. This'll be just one more scar to add to it. I'm imperfect."

"No, you're not, love. You're absolute perfection in my eyes."

Karliah handed Selene a healing potion. "Drink this."

"You wouldn't take one from me. You said it would dull your senses." She took the potion and drank it anyway. Her head was beginning to swim.

"I'm gonna break the tip off in the back and pull the arrow out through the front," Bryn explained. "You up for it?"

"No!" Her heart hammered, and she broke out in a cold sweat, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She didn't know what was happening to her.

"Her lips are turning blue," Karliah noticed.

"Get her another healing potion, and then be ready with something we can press onto the wounds. Selene, look at me, lass." He placed a hand on each side of her face and looked her in the eye, but she still found it hard to focus on him. "You're in shock. You're gonna be okay, but not until I get that arrow out of your shoulder. Can you try to stay focused for just a moment?"

"Uh-huh."

He lowered her to her floor, and she lay on her side with her head on Karliah's bedroll and tried to slip into a meditative state. She kept telling herself, _You've had worse. You've had worse._ Brynjolf moved around behind her, and Karliah took her hand.

"Are you with me, love?" he asked.

"Just do it."

A sharp pain rocketed through Selene's shoulder and down her arm as Brynjolf snapped the tip off the arrow, and she squealed. Then she giggled. "I hope there aren't any draugr to wake up," she said woozily.

Karliah knelt next to her head with a wadded up bandage in one hand and one of Brynjolf's shirts in the other, ready to press them against the holes in her shoulder when he pulled the arrow out. Bryn came around and knelt in front of her, brushing a lock of hair from her cheek.

"I'm sorry to be such a baby. This is not me. I'm usually much braver than—ow."

He took hold of the arrow. "Just hold on, my love. It'll all be over in a few seconds." Before she even realized what he was doing, he yanked hard on the arrow and it slid through her shoulder. There was very little resistance, and he fell over backward.

"Huh. Didn't even hurt."

Karliah mashed the cloths onto each of the wounds and held the pressure for several minutes to staunch the bleeding. After it subsided, Brynjolf helped Selene remove her cuirass so they could treat the wounds. Karliah poured part of a healing potion into the hole and then stitched her up, and Bryn fed her a couple more potions. He kissed her forehead, and she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she was snuggled up in her bedroll and he and Karliah were sitting across the hall.

Selene sat up quickly. "How long was I asleep?"

"About six hours," Brynjolf replied.

"Great Talos! We don't have time for that."

"You were in shock, love. You weren't going anywhere, and as you once said to me, I'd die before I left you here. I take it you feel better?"

She rubbed her shoulder. "I'm sore, but I'm ready to get moving."

As Brynjolf packed up her bedroll, Selene read the journal entry regarding the next test, which they assumed was behind the iron door that waited just down the hall. "'Above all they stand, beholden to the murk, yet contentious of the glow.'"

"'They,'" Karliah repeated. "We may have to fight again."

Selene tried drawing her bow but flinched. "Looks like I'm on sword duty," she grumbled, shouldering the bow.

"If it's a ranged attack, hang back and let me handle it."

"Will do."

Brynjolf opened the door, and they stepped into the scariest place Selene had ever seen. Several high platforms stood in a room so gloomy, they couldn't judge how big it was. They could only see so far, because the floor seemed to drop off into a gray haze that may have been smoke, may have been fog, may have just been...nothing. The room was deathly silent. Nothing attacked as they crept into the room, so they kept moving. Farther in, they got a better look at their surroundings, and it appeared that a dark path that meandered over the platforms and between pools of light. In one of those pools was a well-preserved corpse. Brynjolf moved toward the body, but as soon as he stepped into the light, he gasped and dropped to the floor, wailing in agony.

"Brynjolf!" Selene cried, and she reached out to him. Where the light touched her arm, it felt like the flesh was melting from her bones and her blood was boiling. She shrieked and pulled her hand back, but slinking back in the shadow wasn't going to save Brynjolf, so she braved the light again, grabbing his arm and pulling him out of the light. By the time he was safely in shadow, he was unconscious. Selene got a healing potion from her pack and forced some of it down his throat. After a moment, he began choking and coughing.

"Gods," he panted as he lay with his head in her lap. "What in Oblivion was that? I've never felt pain like that."

"'Contentious of the glow,'" Karliah recalled.

Selene handed Brynjolf another healing potion. "Seems like we're going through these potions pretty fast."

"Aye, and this is only the second test." He drank the potion. "I'm guessing we stay out of the light, no?"

As the light caused damage, the darkness seemed to heal, and Brynjolf recovered quickly. The light wasn't the only danger the second trial had to offer, however. The path led up the stairs to a nearby platform, and a well-concealed tripwire was strung across the path. Karliah tripped it, and the Nightingales dove to the floor as poisoned darts flew overhead. They wound their way around the path, but it was slow going because they couldn't see the floor beneath their feet in most places. They managed to find and step over four or five more tripwires. After what seemed like hours, a wide staircase finally led to the next iron door; but the path up the stairs narrowed so much, they could barely squeeze through without stepping into the light. At the top of the stairs, they all leaned against the door with great sighs of relief.

"Next one," Selene said as she opened the journal. "'Offer what she desires most, but reject the material. For her greatest want is that which cannot be seen, felt, or carried.'"

No one had any ideas about what the clue meant, so after a brief rest, they opened the door and stepped inside to see what awaited them. They navigated a dark corridor that housed several burial chambers holding skeletons but no draugr. A chest rested in one of the chambers, but by unspoken agreement they passed the chest by. There would be no looting in the Twilight Sepulcher. After a while, they came to a statue of Nocturnal, which stood in front of a closed stone doorway. Glowing braziers hung on the wall on either side of the statue, and a skeleton lay at the foot. An offering plate bore some coins and gems.

"I think I know this one," Karliah perked up. "She may be the patron of thieves, but Nocturnal herself doesn't desire gold or material things. Her greatest want is shadow."

"Then we douse the fires," said Brynjolf.

Behind each brazier they found a pull chain which, when pulled, extinguished the braziers. When the room was dark, the door behind the statue opened.

"'Direct and yet indirect,'" Selene read as the trinity moved into a brightly lit, root-lined tunnel. "'The path to salvation a route of cunning with fortune betraying the foolish.'"

They came to a fork in the tunnel. To the left was an iron door; to the right, a short hallway bearing two pressure plates and two deadly pendulum blades. Another door waited at the end of the hallway, taunting them.

"Let's try the door on the left first," Brynjolf suggested. "Maybe there's something in there that can turn off those blades."

The door had a difficult lock, but using the Skeleton Key, Selene was through it in seconds. It opened onto a hallway that ran parallel to the one with the pendulum trap. On the left was a two-level room with many books and artifacts, including a large coin purse resting on a pedestal. A sentinel ghost stood on the balcony opposite them with his bow at the ready. The Nightingales passed the room and the sentinel silently. The corridor veered to the right, and they came to an open area with two doors. By its position, they could assume the one on the right led to the trapped corridor. They went to the door on the left.

"Last door?" Brynjolf asked hopefully.

Selene looked in the journal. "'The journey is complete. The Empress awaits the fallen. Hesitate not if you wish to gift her your eternal devotion.' It also says something about 'night is the new day' and 'ghost of the sun.'"

They opened the door to find a long, arched corridor similar to a hall of stories, but instead of a puzzle door, the portal at the end was made of wood, and it was unlocked. On the other side, a short flight of stairs led to a small doorway and a sheer drop. Selene looked through the opening to realize it was a well, and they were about halfway down. High above, the moonlight shone into the shaft, bathing it in a soft, white light.

"'Ghost of the sun,'" she whispered.

"What was that?" Brynjolf asked.

"Some mages say the moons have no light of their own; they just reflect the light of the sun." She looked down the shaft, muttering to herself. "'The Empress awaits the fallen.'" Without looking back at her companions, Selene jumped into the shaft. She rolled when she reached the floor to soften the landing, but it didn't do much to help her sore shoulder. "Shit!" she snarled.

"By the Eight, lass, what in the Void are you doing!"

"'The Empress awaits the fallen. We're supposed to jump into the shaft. Hesitate not, my fiery lover!"

"I think you're still delirious from shock. Is that a skeleton lying next to you?"

"Trust me, damn it!"

With that, Brynjolf jumped into the well, hit the floor and rolled to a stop. Karliah followed shortly thereafter. Brynjolf inspected the skeleton and found a note lying next to it, which he picked up and read. "This must be Anders. He's talking about conning the priests of Nocturnal and getting stuck down here." He looked up at Selene expectantly. "What now?"

She smiled at him, reached into her pocket, and pulled out the Skeleton Key. As soon as it was in her hand, the floor disintegrated below them. It was a short drop, however, and a soft landing.

"The Ebonmere," Karliah said.

"What, that?" The only thing in the room was a ring on the floor, about six feet in diameter, with a keyhole in the center. "I thought it'd be more elaborate."

"Replace the key. You'll see."

Selene stepped into the circle and inserted the Skeleton Key into the lock. The floor rocked back and forth, knocking her off balance. She stumbled out of the circle as it dropped away, then rose up to become a pool with three talon-like formations around the rim. To go with the talons, three doorways opened up around the room, all with the same blue light that had manifested in Nightingale Hall when Nocturnal had appeared before them. The pool also had the blue light, but it was obscured by dozens of black birds who came flying up from below and ascended to the sky. Behind them rose Nocturnal herself.

She wore the same revealing robes most of the statues depicted, her delicate curves peeking out from beneath the fabric. Her face was attractive yet nondescript, and her eyes were ice cold. A nightingale perched on each out-held arm. The daedric prince looked down at the Nightingale Trinity.

"My, my, what have we here? My 'champions' return the Skeleton Key to the Twilight Sepulcher and stand before me awaiting a pat on your head, a kiss on your cheek, a reward for a job well done. What you fail to realize is you have done nothing more than was expected of you. Don't mistake my tone for displeasure. After all, you obediently performed your duties to the letter. But we all know this has little to do with honor, oaths and loyalty, even for the Companion. It was about revenge, and it was about the reward. Well, fear not, because you will have your trinkets. I bid you drink deeply from the Ebonmere, for this is where the Agent of Nocturnal is born. Farewell, Nightingales. See to it that the key stays this time, won't you?"

The birds came back down the well shaft and funneled into the Ebonmere, and Nocturnal sank along with them.

"That went very well," Karliah said brightly. "She seemed quite pleased."

"That was pleased?" Brynjolf responded incredulously.

Karliah shrugged. "It's her way. Think of her as a scolding mother, outwardly sounding harsh but secretly content. Had she been displeased, this meeting would have gone very differently."

"That's it, then, after all those years of helplessly watching the Guild decline. It's hard to believe it's finally over."

"Well, it's not _entirely_ over," Selene reminded him. "We still have to find out how involved Maven was in all this. And I would love to discover where Mercer put all of the loot he took out of the vault."

Bryn nodded his agreement. "Karliah, what's this about an Agent of Nocturnal?"

"Technically, you're already Agents of Nocturnal. All that's left for you to do is choose your path. You'll notice three circles at the base of the Ebonmere depicting the phases of the moon. When you stand on a circle, it will imbue you with powers befitting a Nightingale Agent. The crescent moon represents the Agent of Stealth, a master of remaining unseen. This agent can manipulate darkness, use it in their favor, and literally become invisible. The half-moon is for the Agent of Subterfuge, who uses shadow to cloud the judgment of those around him. This power allows the agent to manipulate others into doing their will—fight for them, steal for them, give over valuable items or information—not by force, but by persuasion. Very useful for an interrogator or a con artist. The full moon represents the Agent of Strife, who can send forth a tendril of pure darkness into the heart of another, causing them great injury to the victim and strengthening the agent's own life force. The power is much like that a vampire would use—without the exchange of blood, of course."

"Why can't we be all three?" Selene asked.

"It's Nocturnal's way of maintaining balance. You can change your abilities if you wish, simply by returning to the Sepulcher and standing on a different circle." Karliah smiled at them. "Only having known each of you for a few weeks, it might be presumptuous of me, but I believe I know what powers each of you will choose."

Selene stepped on the crescent moon circle, and a slight tingle radiated through her body—nothing dramatic, just enough to let her know it was there. Brynjolf stepped on the half-moon circle, and Karliah chuckled.

"You were right then?" Brynjolf asked. Karliah nodded. "What about you?"

"I stepped on the crescent moon many years ago, and I have no desire to change."

"Karliah," a voice said from behind them. The Nightingales turned to see Gallus's ghost standing there. "You have honored us all, Nightingales."

"What will you do now, my love?"

"Nocturnal calls me to the Evergloam. My contract has been fulfilled."

A tear fell down Karliah's cheek and she reached for Gallus's ghostly hand, but there was nothing solid to hold. "If I could only..."

"When your debt to Nocturnal is paid, we will embrace again."

"Farewell, Gallus. Eyes open, walk with the shadows."

"Goodbye, Karliah. Goodbye, Nightingales."

Gallus stepped up to the Ebonmere and disappeared.

"Where'd he go?" Brynjolf asked.

"This is what happens to Nightingales when they have fulfilled their contract with Nocturnal. Gallus's oath has been paid, and now his spirit becomes one with the Evergloam."

"So he's gone?"

"No, no, not gone. He's become one with the shadows. This is the greatest honor a Nightingale can have, Brynjolf. When we say "walk with the shadows," it's not a metaphor. We're asking those Nightingales who have passed on to protect us. It is believed that they literally guide our uncanny luck by placing their hands in ours."

"That's why the Ebonmere needed to be reopened," Selene guessed.

"Yes. Without it, there's no way Nocturnal would be able to allow them through."

"So. What now?"

Karliah gave Selene a mischievous grin. "Crime. We're thieves, after all. If we're needed here, the shadows will summon us. The portal between Nightingale Hall and the Sepulcher has been restored. Use it whenever you wish."

"Can we get back that way?" Brynjolf asked.

"I don't see why not. As for me, I'm planning to make my home at Nightingale Hall. I know you have Honeyside, but remember that Nightingale Hall is your home, too, and I hope to see you both there often." She led them to one of the doors bearing the blue mist. "Shall we go there now?"

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	16. A Nightingale's Tale 16: Vows

A Nightingale's Tale 16

Vows

Selene crouched in the shadows outside Maven's office, cloaked in invisibility, eavesdropping on a conversation. The businesswoman didn't realize it, but she was being interrogated. The intent was to bring Selene out of hiding and find out what she knew about Mercer and how much she participated.

"You look tired," she told Brynjolf as he sat down across from her.

"It was a long trip. I have good news and bad news. The good news is we found Selene. She was badly injured, but she has recovered."

Fear shot into Maven's scent, her jaw dropped, and her eyes widened until her irises were merely islands of brown amid pools of white. She recovered quickly, at least her manner if not her scent. "So you'll deal with her, then? After all, she did betray the Guild."

"Aye, about that. It wasn't Selene who betrayed the Guild; it was Mercer."

Maven tried to act surprised, but Brynjolf wasn't fooled. He used his Nightingale Subterfuge to get into her head. "Come on, Maven," he said smoothly. "You knew it was Mercer all along, didn't you?"

Maven stared into his eyes uncertainly and blinked a couple of times, and then her face went blank. "Of course, I did, Brynjolf," she murmured. Her tone of voice had changed, and she sounded distant, dreamy.

"And you let him get away with it."

"He made promises. If I would help him build resources offsite, he would give me half his spoils and we would eventually run away together. Of course, I wouldn't have actually run away with him, but his proposal did sound...seductive."

"He was stealing from the Guild for years, Maven!"

"Brynjolf, you're a big lad; you know how these things work. It was nothing personal. It was just business."

"And telling him to kill Selene?"

"H-how did you know that?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Well, she knew too much, didn't she? She was a danger to everything we had planned for. She had to die."

"What did you do to help Mercer?"

She looked away. "Oh, I shouldn't tell you that."

"Look at me, Maven." When she looked back, he said, "You really should, and I'll tell you why. Mercer has gone. He abandoned you just as much as he did the Guild."

"No. No, he wouldn't betray me. He knows better."

"He cleaned out the vault, executed a life-changing heist, and headed for the hills."

Maven's eyes narrowed. "He wouldn't dare. I'll have his head."

"Get in line. And don't go calling on the Dark Brotherhood for this. We'll handle it internally, but we need your help to find him."

"How would turning him over to you benefit me, Brynjolf?"

"Don't you want revenge? He used you and then left you here. He never had any intention of taking you with him. The Maven I know would never let him get away with that." He stared into her eyes until the blank look returned.

"You're right, of course. I helped him by using my resources to move goods. He has much of it stored in Irknthamz."

Brynjolf shook his head. "No, we've been there."

"No, no, _Irknthamz._ It's a ruin in the northwest Reach. He planned to make his home—_our_ home—there, as far away from the Guild as he could get and still be in Skyrim."

"You said _much_ of it. Where's the rest?"

"I'm not sure. He mentioned someplace in Eastmarch, but I can't...no, I can't remember."

"Maven, we need the name of that place," Brynjolf prodded.

"I'm sorry, but I don't believe he told me the name."

Maven saying she was sorry? Selene thought she might die from shock.

"That's all right, Maven. If you think of it, you know you can tell me anything, right?"

"Mm-hmm, I can trust you, Brynjolf."

"And I need to be able to trust _you_. This conversation stays only between us. Do you understand? I won't abuse the information you've given me, and you'll be perfectly safe. But I can't have you using this against me, either."

Still staring into his eyes, she nodded mutely.

"I'll see you soon, Maven." Brynjolf got up and left the room, and Selene sneaked along behind him. When they were outside the Bee and Barb and headed back to Honeyside, she came out of hiding.

"You are one smooth liar, my man," she remarked. "You almost had _me_ believing Mercer was still alive. Agent of Subterfuge, huh? More like Agent of Mind Control."

"No, it wasn't like that. I just convinced her that telling me the truth was the best option."

"You didn't see yourself, Bryn. You were staring into her eyes, and she was staring back, and it was as though you were forcing the truth out of her. As though you had drugged her."

"Hmm. That could be even handier than we thought."

"It could also be dangerous." She unlocked the door and stepped into the house. "That's a lot of power to have over someone.

"Don't worry, my love. I'll use it responsibly, and probably not often. It's draining."

She opened a drawer, pulled out her map of Skyrim, and spread it on the table, scanning the northern part of The Reach with her index finger. "Irknthamz...here it is. Up in the mountains. Long trip."

"Maybe we could make it a honeymoon."

She looked up at him suddenly. "What?"

"Wait, I'm going to do this right." He dug into his pocket and pulled out an Amulet of Mara, which he placed around his neck, then dropped to one knee. "I never thought I'd actually say these words, never thought I'd love and trust someone enough to even consider it, but here we are. Selene Stormblade, will you marry me?"

Selene did the math in her head. They had known each other just over three months, and they'd been a couple less than half of that time. Marriage wasn't something to rush into, especially in their line of work, and even more importantly, in _hers._ She could go out tomorrow and be killed by a dragon. Even if she didn't, how could they ever start a family? Raising a child would be a big enough challenge if they were simple merchants or farmers. But thieves? Plus, she was a werewolf. Who knew how that would affect a pregnancy, or if she could even get pregnant? Children hardly even merited consideration. But there was more. In their short time together, there was never any normalcy. It was one vendetta after another, and it still wasn't over. What happened when things settled down and they had to learn to deal with each other in peacetime? With all that, there was really only one answer she could give him.

With a tear streaming down her cheek, she cried, "Aye! Oh, absolutely!"

With an elated grin, he stood up and wrapped his arms around her, covering her mouth with his in a deep, hungry kiss, and then took her hand and led her to the bedroom.

* * *

Selene wanted to invite her friends from Whiterun and Solitude, so they set the date for the end of the month, which was just over three weeks away, to allow time to send for them. In the meantime, Selene and Brynjolf enjoyed Honeyside and went about setting the Guild back in order, including doing some extra training for the younger footpads and starting to rebuild the stash in the vault. Just because they knew where some of their treasure was didn't mean they couldn't accumulate more, and the thieves worked overtime.

After all that had happened with Mercer, the notion that the Nightingales were merely fictitious went out the window, and the trinity agreed that trying to keep it a secret any longer was an exercise in futility. Thus, Selene abandoned the Guild armor and wore the Nightingale gear all the time. Brynjolf and Karliah switched back and forth, depending on the situation.

Throughout the month, Selene made wedding preparations with the help of Karliah and Sapphire. They met with Maramal at the Temple of Mara to set the date and discuss any decorations, which the priest said he would handle. They also bought/stole materials to transform the Ragged Flagon from a trashy, Ratway dive into a party room fit for the wedding of two of the Guild's elite. Vekel made arrangements for food and drink, Tonilia hired a couple of bards to provide music, and Dirge cleared the Ratway of any unwanted elements that might deter the guests. As the day approached, Selene thought everything was coming along nicely, except that she couldn't find a suitable dress. She finally talked to the jarl and borrowed one of hers. It wasn't perfect, but she didn't have time to have one made or to go to Solitude to buy one.

The day before the wedding, Farkas, Vilkas, Lydia, and Aela showed up at Honeyside. Farkas, as usual, picked her up and swung her around.

"Congratulations!" he bellowed.

"Thank you! Now, put me down."

"You always say that."

"If I didn't, you'd just carry me around."

"Oh, fine."

Vilkas and Aela hugged her as well, and Lydia held out a large box. "For you from Jarl Elisif."

Selene took the box and carried it to the bed, but Lydia put an arm out to stop her before she could open it. "Is Brynjolf here?"

"No, he's working in the Flagon."

"Okay, then. Go ahead."

She lifted the lid to find a dress like nothing she had ever seen. The simple gown was made of royal-blue silk, strapless, with a full skirt, decorative black laces up the front of the bodice, and fabric buttons up the back. She gasped. "This is beautiful."

A note dropped from within the folds of the dress, and she opened and read.

My Dearest Selene,

I was so pleased to hear of your impending nuptials. Unfortunately, due to some issues we have been having with the Stormcloak occupation of my city, it is impossible for Falk and I to attend the ceremony. Please accept the enclosed as my wedding gift to you. I hope it will make your day even more memorable. Best wishes and good luck to both of you from the both of us. We hope to see you soon.

Jarl Elisif

"It was as if she knew I didn't have a proper wedding dress," she mused. "But my shoulder—"

"Brynjolf's scars are on his face," Lydia reminded her. "Besides, your shoulder has never looked as bad as you believed. If it bothers you that much, you can use all that hair you refuse to cut to cover it up."

"Try it on," Aela encouraged her.

Selene turned to the men and pointed to the door. "I know you've both seen me naked, but still—out."

Lydia couldn't suppress a chuckle as the twins left the house, grumbling about the cold weather.

"Cold weather?" she called after them. "That's all you've got?" She started pulling off her armor, and Aela admired the unusual material.

"What is this?" she asked.

"It's leather treated with void salts. I don't know what enchantments are on it to make the leather harden and soften like that." She slipped the gown over her head, and Lydia helped her with the buttons.

"It brings out your eyes," Aela noted as she stood back, nodding approvingly.

"I have a circlet that will match, too."

Farkas stuck his head in the door. "Can we come in now?"

She waved them in, then posed, her arms out to the sides. Vilkas's reaction was hard to miss, and Selene was glad Lydia didn't have the enhanced senses of a werewolf.

"You look lovely," Farkas told her. Vilkas didn't say a word, just stared at her.

"So where is Saadia?" Selene asked Farkas.

"She still doesn't feel safe traveling. Sometimes I think she never will. But she did send her best."

"Is that why you haven't married her? Can't get her to Riften?"

He shrugged and grunted but didn't really reply. But Aela's scent changed, and Selene looked up at her sharply.

"Speaking of marriage..." Vilkas began, nodding to Lydia.

"I don't want to steal your thunder," her housecarl said, "but Vilkas and I are going to talk to the priest of Mara while we're here."

Selene's face lit up, and she hugged Lydia first, then Vilkas. "I'm so happy for both of you." She regarded Vilkas earnestly. "All I ever wanted was for you to be happy."

"I am," he assured her, looking over at Lydia. "I am."

"Let me change out of this dress, and I'll take you out to celebrate. We'll go to the Bee and Barb for dinner, and then the Ragged Flagon for drinks. The Bee has better food than the Flagon, but if you tell Vekel I said that, I'll deny it."

* * *

Selene's wedding day dawned bright, sunny, and unseasonably warm. She awoke next to Karliah; Brynjolf had stayed in the cistern for the night due to some long-forgotten superstition about not seeing the bride before the wedding. She sat up in bed, looked at her dress, which was hanging from the wardrobe, and thought, _Oh, sweet Mara, what have I gotten myself into?_ What in the void was she thinking, agreeing to marry Brynjolf?

Next to her, Karliah stretched and yawned. "Are you ready for your big day?" she asked sleepily.

"Um, no, I don't think I am. Karliah, this is a terrible idea."

"Nonsense. You just have cold feet. It's going to be the best day of your life."

"I'm not so sure."

"Do you love him?"

"Of course I do."

"Do you think he can make you happy?"

Selene actually stopped and thought about that one before answering. He had certainly made the nightmare surrounding Mercer Frey more bearable, and having him in her home—and in her bed—nonstop for the past few weeks definitely made her happy. But long-term? What about five years from now? And could she make _him_ happy?

She sighed and smiled at her. "Of course he can make me happy. You're right—I'm just nervous, and today's going to be wonderful."

Sapphire and Tonilia came in while they were eating breakfast, and Lydia and Aela showed up a few minutes later. They spent the morning getting ready, talking about the men, telling naughty tales and gossip, and giggling a lot, even Aela, who was approaching forty years old, and Karliah, who hadn't seen forty in a century.

When the hour finally approached, Selene asked the others for some quiet time, and all but Karliah headed to the temple. As the elf busied herself by straightening up the kitchen, Selene sat on the bed and closed her eyes, finding her center, calming herself. She had never been one to get overly excited or anxious, and she was going to find serenity if it killed her. She wasn't nearly as calm as she would have cared to be when Karliah poked her head in and said it was time to go.

A chill wind blew off the lake, and Selene rubbed her bare arms. She probably should have put on a cloak for the walk through town. It was warm for Morning Star, but it was still the middle of winter. As they walked through Riften toward the Temple of Mara, Selene listened to the sounds of the city. Guards gossiped, and the vendors in the marketplace hawked their wares. The sound of Balimund's hammer was noticeably absent, however, and she hoped it was because he was at the temple. As she turned from the walkway toward the steps leading up to the temple, the icy wind gave way to a warm breeze, and she thought it was nice of Kynareth to attend her wedding. With the balmy air wafting across her shoulders, she finally found her calm. It lasted just long enough for Karliah to open the door.

As soon as Selene saw Brynjolf, her heart started to flutter again. As she walked up the aisle, she was vaguely aware that there were other people in the room, but she only had eyes for the gorgeous man standing at the altar, wearing a new quilted surcoat and Chillrend on his hip, his emerald eyes gleaming as he watched her approach. When she was close enough, he reached out and took her hand, and together they turned toward Maramal, who waited on the opposite side of the altar.

"Welcome, friends, and thank you for joining us on this glorious day!" the priest emoted, his palms raised toward the heavens and his eyes on the congregation. "It was Mara that first gave birth to all of creation and pledged to watch over us as her children. It is from her love of us that we learned to love one another and learned that a life lived alone is no life at all. We gather here today under Mara's loving gaze to bear witness to the union of two souls in eternal companionship. May they journey forth together in this life and in the next, in prosperity and poverty, and in joyfulness and hardship. When Selene and Brynjolf came to me but a few weeks ago and asked me to preside over their wedding, they told me a story of adventure and heroics, of war, danger, and uncertainty, and of a man and a woman who wanted nothing more than to love each other and stand together against the trials and tribulations they are faced with. Join me now in asking Lady Mara to bless this union and give them the strength and wisdom to love and care for each other, to shoulder all of life's burdens together as fully as they share its joys and mysteries."

He turned his gaze from the crowd and spoke to the groom. "Brynjolf, do you agree to be bound together with Selene in love, now and forever?"

"Aye," Brynjolf replied softly, his eyes meeting Selene's, "now and forever."

"And Selene, do you agree to be bound together with Brynjolf in love, now and forever?"

Any nerves she had experienced before were gone now as she gazed at his handsome face. "I do. Now and forever."

"Then by the authority of Mara, Divine of love, I declare you to be married. I present you with these matching rings blessed by Mara's divine grace. May they protect each of you in your new life together."

Brynjolf placed the ring on Selene's finger, then lifted her hand to his lips and brushed them across it tenderly. Selene did the same to him, and then he pulled her into his arms and bent his head to hers. The congregation applauded as they kissed.

* * *

The Ragged Flagon was busier than it had been in years. Thieves, Companions, and townspeople celebrated together, eating, drinking and dancing, and occasionally clanging their cups together to urge the happy couple to kiss for the crowd. Jarl Laila Law-Giver sat in earnest conversation with Vilkas and Karliah, while Lydia and Farkas attempted to drink Delvin and Vex under the table, and Aela shared a dance with Balimund. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, even Maven Black-Briar, whose presence Selene could have done without but whom they had felt they had to invite in order to keep up appearances.

"I love you, wife," Brynjolf purred to Selene when they had a moment to themselves. "Are you happy?"

"I am. You?"

"More than I could have imagined." He leaned in to kiss her but stopped and rolled his eyes as Maven's haughty voice and shrill laugh rang across the Flagon. "The bitch owns a meadery; you'd think she could hold her liquor better."

"That woman really needs to die."

"I'm not so sure about that."

"Um...what?"

"I've been thinking about it. I've thought of many creative ways to end her. I even pictured this gratifying scenario of executing her in the cistern in front of the entire Guild so they would know what would happen if they betrayed us. The thing is, I wouldn't be surprised if she has all sorts of contingencies in place in the event of her untimely death. Killing her might just come back to bite us on the arse. Besides, _hurting_ her would be worse. But trust me love I want her brought down as much as you do. I made one vow today; now I'll make another. Maven _will_ pay."

"You have something in mind?"

"Indeed, I do. I don't want to talk about it here and now, but before we leave for Irknthamz, I want to meet with Karliah. Between the three of us, I believe we can pull off a scam that will make Maven Black-Briar wish she was never born."

"Can I kill her after that?"

Brynjolf chuckled and kissed her cheek, then took her hand and led her out onto the dance floor.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	17. A Nightingale's Tale 17: Shades of

A Nightingale's Tale 17

Shades of Mercer Frey

_Warning: Contains spoilers for the Following Mercer Frey Mod ( __ mods/29946 _ ). Thanks to rubypele for its use!

* * *

"Surely she has other investments," Karliah suggested.

"Aye, and a quick sweep of her home and office will give us the ammunition we need to sabotage those ventures as well."

Karliah pursed her lips as she thought about Brynjolf's proposal. "It might work," she supposed, "if you're planning a long con. Maven has enough power to crush any opposition easily and quickly. The only way to successfully bring her down in such a manner would be to build our own influence and resources until they were sufficient to overpower hers. Such an effort would take years, and all the while, she continues to build _her_ power base as well."

"No, we need something short-term," Selene remarked.

"For someone with that much power, I think quick and dirty is best."

"I believe if we just kill her, there could be consequences to the Guild," Brynjolf argued. "Sibbi Black-Briar won't just accept that his mother has been murdered. He'll hunt down whoever did it and won't stop until they've paid dearly. Whatever we do, we'll have to cover our tracks perfectly."

"Go to Irknthamz," Karliah said, "and let us all think on it while you're away."

"Karliah, don't do something without us," Selene warned her.

"No, my friend, I'll wait until you've come back. But even if we do this quickly, we'll want to think it through and plan for every contingency."

* * *

Irknthamz was small for a Dwemer ruin, at least on the outside. It was at the top of a small hill near a Forsworn redoubt, and Selene and Brynjolf briefly considered clearing out the encampment before going into the ruin. They had brought horses—one for each of them and an additional one to use as a pack mule in anticipation of taking home a considerable amount of spoils—and leaving them outside was a risk. Fortunately, the entrance to the ruin was like a small cave and they were able to tie the horses up inside. The animals were still at risk, but much less so than if they had been left outside and vulnerable to the weather and enemies.

As they walked up a ramp to leave the first chamber, they heard the telltale rattle of chaurus. Selene groaned. "I was hoping that since Mercer had planned on using this place as his home, he'd cleared out all the Falmer and chaurus."

"Ah, but sneaking by them turns them into instant guards. To get to him and his wealth, an enemy would first have to get past them."

"Not a problem for us, but I see your point."

When they found the chaurus, there were three of them in a pit, one of them as big as a war horse. They shot them from the surface, then proceeded past a hut and a couple of dead Falmer into a narrow passage. After a while, the tunnel opened up into a room bearing the appearance of a conventional dwarven ruin, and this is where they discovered the first Falmer. Two of them attacked as soon as Selene and Brynjolf entered the room, but they were sluggish, almost as if they had been drugged. They died easily, and as the Nightingales started to explore the room, Brynjolf almost collided with another one. It was a female, and she simply stood there, staring at him. He waved a hand in front of her face, and she blinked but didn't move. Brynjolf shrugged and swung his sword, decapitating her. "Hardly seems fair," he muttered.

"But we can't leave them alive behind us."

"I know, I know."

An alchemy lab and arcane enchanter stood in the room, but there wasn't much of real value, just some Dwemer parts, metal ingots, and ingredients on an alchemy table. Brynjolf started to pick up a root he had never seen before, but Selene put a hand out to stop him.

"Don't!" she cried urgently. "That's jarrin root. One bite of that will kill you. You don't even want the oil on your fingers."

Brynjolf jerked his hand away as if it had been burned. "Ah! Important safety tip. Don't touch the jarrin root. Thanks, lass."

She scratched him under the chin. "Don't mention it. I do want to keep it, though." She dug in her pack for a bandage, and she picked the root up and wrapped it in the bandage. "This is valuable stuff, extremely rare."

There were brass doors on either end of the long hall. One could not be opened from their side, so they tried the other one, which opened onto a short hallway. A tripwire was set only an inch from the floor, and Selene didn't see it. She stepped on it and it broke, starting up a spinning blade that ran up and down the next slope. They hugged the wall and managed to slip past it, only to find three dwarven spheres and more traps in the following hallways, including a line of pressure plates that stretched from wall to wall.

"Something tells me we're on the right track," Brynjolf remarked as they stepped over the plates.

They came upon a recess that contained four chests and a lever mounted on a large, stone table. The chests, which had locks of varying degrees of difficulty, afforded several hundred gold pieces, a few gems and pieces of jewelry, and a glass helmet.

"I see a problem here," Selene mused as she held the helmet in her hands. "I never saw the vault, but I'm assuming you had a lot of weapons and armor stored there, no?"

"Aye."

"We brought horses so we could carry it back to Riften, but how are we going to get it all from the ruin to the horses?"

Brynjolf furrowed his brow. "Valid point. All right, we take the smaller items—gold, gems, jewels—and leave the larger ones, unless we know for sure it's of great value. Hopefully the ruin won't be very big, but we can also backtrack and store what we have with the horses if we have to. It's inconvenient, but it'll work as a contingency plan."

"You know if something happens to those horses, I'm going to be very put out."

"The last time you had a horse was before the Skeleton Key was returned. Our luck will hold this time."

They stuffed the gold and jewels into their pockets and pulled the lever on the table—after Selene carefully stepped out of the recess, remembering a time when she had gotten trapped in just such a room by pulling a lever. A portcullis did not drop down to close off the little room, however, and the lever opened a set of brass doors at the end of the corridor.

They found a couple of Falmer in the next room, but they were the last they encountered. From there on, they only had to deal with the mechanical guardians and traps, of which there were many. There was also a lot of treasure. Chests were stashed all over the place, and they all contained hordes of gold and gems. They opened door after door and collected their loot until they finally came upon a room that showed signs of recent use. It was a dining room containing barrels of food and Black-Briar mead, a table set for two, and a dwarven sphere guardian, which Selene dispatched. Two doors led out of the room. One opened onto a bathroom with two stone tubs; one of them had warm water in it, and the other was covered in blood.

Selene pointed to the other door and whispered, "We're not alone."

Brynjolf nodded, and they readied their weapons before opening the next door. What they found, they couldn't have predicted.

It was a large, plush bedroom with furs on the bed, shelves and dressers around the room, several chests, a safe, and Mercer Frey.

The blue spirit stood near one of the dressers, his body a little more solid than a conventional ghost. When he heard them come in, he turned swiftly and drew his sword—the same one Selene had taken from his body when she'd killed him. "Ha, I knew you'd come!" he snarled as he attacked Brynjolf. The sword hit, and although Brynjolf didn't bleed, a red haze washed over his body and he stumbled. He recovered before Selene could come to his rescue or Mercer could attack again and swung Chillrend as hard as he could. Mercer Frey perished, his essence melting into a pool of glowing ectoplasm.

"I didn't expect to see his ghost here," Brynjolf muttered as he put his sword away. "How can his ghost be here and not where you killed him?"

"That wasn't a ghost. It was a shade. Sort of a copy of his spirit. I don't know how it works, but it's more substantial than a ghost and there could be more than one."

"Lovely." He reached down and rummaged through the items the shade had dropped. "I don't get it. He wasn't corporeal. How did he have all this stuff on him?" He handed Selene the sword, which seemed as real as the one she'd displayed in her house as a trophy, then he picked up a safe key, a handful of gems, and a note, which he unfolded and read.

Mercer, a pleasure doing business with you as always. Your payment is in the usual spot in the cave near Bonestrewn Crest. I

"Bonestrewn Crest," Selene read over his shoulder. "Perhaps this isn't all there is."

"I did expect more," he admitted. "We go there next, then."

They searched the bedroom, and there was more of the same loot in the chests and safe, in addition to some valuable scrolls and a few stamina potions and draughts of vigor.

"Maybe he _was_ planning to run away with Maven," Selene suggested.

"Ugh, I don't even want to think about that!"

"Mercer wasn't a bad looking man."

"No, but the thought of him and Maven...let's just change the subject, all right?"

Selene browsed the books on a bookshelf, leafing through the pages in case Mercer had hidden any clues within them. There was nothing there, but she couldn't help noting his taste in books was fairly specific. They were nonfiction and remained within the categories of the Thieves Guild and Nightingales, the Dwemer and Falmer, and Morrowind and the Dunmer. He had several volumes on each subject and pretty much nothing else except for a copy of _The Lusty Argonian Maid._

By the time they worked their way through the rest of the ruin, they needed the horses. Even with only gold and gems, they still had too much to carry back to Riften on their own, to say nothing of the fact that they planned on stopping at the cave near Bonestrewn Crest on their way back.

Solitude was only a few miles out of the way, so they went there for a night's rest. Selene called in a favor with Falk Firebeard and was able to ship most of their take from Irknthamz back to Riften.

As they lay in each other's arms that night, Brynjolf couldn't help laughing. "When I first met you, I had a feeling you would be valuable to the Guild, but I didn't expect anything like what you pulled off today. We just sent several thousand septims' worth of stolen goods to Riften in an official crate from the jarl with armed guards! What amazes me the most was that the steward didn't even ask questions."

"Falk is a true friend. Besides, he knows how things are. I adore Elisif, but she's little more than a figurehead. Falk runs the hold. He didn't have to ask questions; he knew exactly what was in that crate. He also knows what you and I do and that there's no fighting such an organization. Better to have friends in low places."

"And in high places," he said as he kissed the top of her head.

* * *

A dragon impeded their access to the cave at Bonestrewn Crest, and Brynjolf actually got to fight this one. He ducked beneath its head as it snapped at him and drove his sword into its neck as Selene pelted it with flaming arrows from the side. She could smell Brynjolf's fear, but he didn't let it get in the way, and he didn't stop fighting until the dragon flopped to the ground in its death throes.

When the dragon was dead and its soul absorbed, they found the cave entrance. It was at the bottom of the hill, directly under the word wall, but it was so well hidden that Selene hadn't noticed it the first time she had been there. The horses wouldn't fit through the cave opening, so they had to find a place to tie them up outside and just hope nobody killed them or ran off with them.

When the winding tunnel opened onto a high, wide chamber, Selene realized Bonestrewn Crest was hollow. Two high arches graced the room, which was a mixture of Nordic ruin and Aalto volcanic rock. Far above, an opening to the outside world let sunlight through. Selene started through the doorway into the large room and squealed in surprise as Brynjolf suddenly picked her up and pulled her back.

"What in the void?"

He pointed to the floor to show her where two pressure plates had been set across the doorway. "It's Mercer," he reminded her. "There's no telling how many traps he's set. Just be careful and watch the floor."

They carefully searched the first chamber and found a strongbox hidden within a mammoth skeleton and a chest tucked into a fallen log. Two draugr patrolled in front of an iron door. Just like the Falmer in Irknthamz, the draugr didn't move with their normal speed, and they took them out easily.

As expected, the ruin was heavily trapped and crawling with lethargic draugr. They stepped around or accidentally tripped dozens of bear traps, bone chimes, and pressure plates. They also found lots of urns and chests and collected a good haul of gold and gems. Everything was laid out perfectly, and the treasure was distributed evenly. As they emptied a chest in a room stocked with urns and bookshelves containing tomes about the Guild and the Dunmer, Selene stopped and gave Brynjolf a pensive look. "I know the crypt was here before Mercer ever found it, but it seems as though he went through and placed the treasure and the draugr at strategic spots."

"Like he was setting up his own ruin so he could play 'adventurer.'"

"Exactly."

"Perhaps he was. Mercer traveled a lot, but he didn't always tell me where he was going. Sometimes he'd be gone for weeks at a time with little more than an occasional letter to let us know he was still alive. I always wondered what he was doing. Seeing all this, I can't help but think I was better off not knowing."

They stepped into a chamber and bumped a set of bone chimes hanging from the ceiling, then fought the draugr who burst from their sarcophagi. These were more...lively...than the others they had encountered, and they had more trouble. Brynjolf took a blade to his side, and the wound was deep enough that after the draugr were dead, they had to stop and stitch him up.

"I was just starting to think this was too easy," he commented as Selene sewed the gash closed and he sipped at a healing potion.

"You call all those traps and draugr easy?"

"Aye, I do. Selene, we've come, what, maybe a mile into this place? This is the first injury we've had of any kind. Don't you think that's a little too convenient?"

"Oh, great, now you've jinxed us."

When she finished, Brynjolf put his cuirass back on and picked up his weapons and pack, and they went through the next door. The tunnel inclined sharply toward an iron door perhaps fifty yards away, and the entire floor was spread with fuel oil. At the bottom of the slope lay a burned corpse.

"Don't drop your bow, lass."

"Wait, let me try something. Step back." They backed up, and she nocked an arrow, which she shot at the oil in the hope of burning it up before they walked into the tunnel. It didn't catch.

"Don't you have a Shout that makes you breathe fire?"

"Aye, but we don't know what's behind that door. I'd just as soon not alert anyone to our presence."

There was no easy way around it; they were going to have to walk up the long, oily incline. Brynjolf went first, and they moved slowly and deliberately, watching their step and planting their feet carefully so as not to slip. They reached a slight plateau about halfway up, and Brynjolf stepped up from the slope. By the time he noticed the well-concealed pressure plate it was too late, and his foot landed. First there was the telltale _click,_ and then a jet of blue flame shot straight up into the air. Before he had the time to say, "Oh, shit," the slope ignited.

"Run!" he cried, grabbing for Selene's hand, and they scrambled up the slope. The heat was practically unbearable, her skin stung as flames licked at her from all sides, and the scent of burning hair reached her nostrils. Brynjolf cried out in pain as his legs and back blazed. As soon as they reached the top, he threw himself to the floor and began rolling back and forth to smother the flames. Selene did the same, and when everything seemed to be extinguished, she reached back to see if she had any hair left.

"It still looks beautiful," Brynjolf said tiredly as he sat up and gingerly pulled his cuirass off. "It's just a couple of inches shorter now."

Selene crawled over to her husband and helped him out of his cuirass to survey the damage to his back. It was red and blistered, but there were no serious burns. "The armor must have protected you from the worst of the flames."

"It surely doesn't feel like it. My legs feel like they're still on fire."

"Take your pants off, too."

"Love, I don't think this is the time or place," he drawled with a mischievous grin.

"Very funny."

"What about you?" he asked as he stripped to his loin cloth, flinching as he peeled the leather away from his backside and legs.

"About the same, I think." She undressed, gasping as a thousand hot needles poked at her skin.

"Do you have enough of that healing salve for both of us?"

"I think so. Hopefully we won't run into anything else before we get out of this gods-forsaken place. We're not far from Windhelm; we can go to the temple there. Jora will fix us up."

"I thought you wanted to avoid Windhelm."

"We need healing worse than I need to stay out of Windhelm. Besides, what are the chances I'm going to run into Ulfric Stormcloak? It's not like he just leaves the palace and strolls around outside."

She dug in her pack and found the healing poultice, which she smeared on Brynjolf's back and legs, and then he did the same for her. While the damage wasn't serious, it was too widespread to bandage. Putting their armor back on was painful, but they had no choice. They couldn't very well navigate the ruin in their small clothes.

The door at the top of the slope led to a hall of stories that was laid end to end with bear traps. The only thing to interrupt the stream of bear traps was a fire rune in the middle of the floor. Brynjolf breathed a frustrated sigh. "With every step I take, I hate Mercer Frey even more."

"To Oblivion with not alerting enemies. I've got this. Stand back there."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to step into the rune."

"No, I don't think so!"

"Bryn, trust me. I have a Shout."

He stared at her for a long moment before stepping farther back in the room.

Selene gathered her will and her breath, whispered, "Kynareth, please let this work," and Shouted, _"FEIM!"_ The sensation of not being quite there washed over her, and she stepped into the rune. It exploded with a loud _bang,_ and Selene braced herself for the pain, but there was none. Flames roared around her for only a second, and then they were gone and she was no worse for wear.

"Brilliant!" Brynjolf exclaimed as he hobbled up in obvious pain.

"Except that now, whatever is on the other side of that door knows we're here."

"The door's trapped, too." He pointed to a mechanism that was visible all the way back where they stood.

"I don't care. I'm done with this place." She marched up to the door, stepping around bear traps as she reached them, and set about disarming the trap. It was difficult, a wire strung in a complicated weave and connected to a battery of deadly spikes set on a spring. She carefully unwound the wire until it was free from the mechanism, then stepped back and sighed with relief.

"This is it," Brynjolf murmured, staring grimly at the door. "It has to be."

They were right. The door opened onto a square room with doors and grated recesses around the entire perimeter. In the center of the room was a desk flanked by two safes. Standing behind the desk was another ethereal blue figure.

"You won't escape me!" Mercer Frey's shade growled as he drew his sword and stepped around the desk.

Selene drew her sword and advanced, thrusting the blade at his abdomen. He dodged to the right and came around with his sword, but she blocked, turned completely around and sliced through his midsection. The shade oozed to the floor.

"At least they're easy to kill," she mused.

"Aye but that word—'they're'—doesn't instill me with a lot of comfort, lass."

Selene picked up a note the shade had dropped and read.

Blackmoor? Why?  
K

"'K' for 'Karliah,'" she thought aloud.

"Blackmoor. I assume that means Fort Blackmoor."

Selene looked up at him with a smile. "We have to know. You understand that, right?"

"Of course, I do. After we clear this place out, we go to Windhelm, heal up, and then go to Fort Blackmoor." With a giggle, Selene leaned over and kissed him. "What could you possibly laughing about?"

"Oh, come on, Brynjolf, admit it. We're searching for buried treasure, following clues, fighting monsters together. Don't tell me you're not enjoying this."

"You're amazing, do you know that?"

"So you're _not_ enjoying this?"

He gave her a small, bemused smile and caressed her cheek. "I could do without the Falmer, and the draugr, and the traps, and getting burned to a crisp; but aye, I have to admit I love being here with you. Perhaps when we retire from the Guild, we can take up adventuring fulltime."

Selene kissed him again, then glanced around the room. "What do you say we find out what's in those safes and behind all those doors, and then we get out of here?"

"Sounds like a fine idea."

After retrieving several thousand gold pieces and enough gems and jewels to allow them to retire right then, they left the cave and loaded up their horses, which still stood where they had left them. Although it was a risk, they changed out of the protection of their armor and into looser clothing, but with blisters on their backside, riding the horses would still be a lesson in torture. Thus, they led the animals out of the Aalto and up the road toward Windhelm.

As the city came into view and the Palace of the Kings loomed over it, Selene groaned inwardly. They were injured and needed a healer, but she didn't like Windhelm anymore. While she had once been happy there, it represented a time in her life that was dead and gone, but the past didn't always stay in the past where she wanted it. Brynjolf knew about Ulfric and understood her reasons for not wanting to see him. Dredging up old feelings wouldn't be good for any of them. But something nagged at her, a tickle at the back of her mind, that said it was going to happen whether she wanted it to or not.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	18. A Nightingale's Tale 18: Unrequited Love

A Nightingale's Tale 18

Unrequited Love

Selene lay on her side with her eyes closed, enjoying the heady, floating sensation from the potion Jora had given her. The priestess and her husband Lortheim had taken her and Brynjolf in at the temple of Talos and treated their burns. Brynjolf lay face down on the cot next to hers, naked and covered with a light sheet, sound asleep. He had been in quite a bit of pain, so Lortheim had given him something to knock him out.

They would rest and heal for a few days before getting back on the road and heading to Fort Blackmoor. Since they found the note from Karliah on Mercer's remains, their quest had become less about the loot and more about answers. Karliah had kept something from them, and before they confronted her, they needed to find out what happened at the fort.

As she lay there wondering about Karliah and Mercer, a familiar scent filled her nostrils, and her heart began to flutter. She had been right; there really was no avoiding Ulfric Stormcloak in his city. She opened her eyes to find him standing in the doorway. "Did Jora tell you I was here?"

"Lortheim." He came into the room, pulled a chair up next to her cot, and sat down. "He said you were injured. What happened?"

"A trap in a ruin." He looked over at Brynjolf, and she said, "It's not as bad as it looks. They said he probably won't even scar from it."

"And you?"

She shook her head in response. "Not too bad. I'll have to cut my hair, though. A lot of it got burned off."

"I heard you'd married. Is that him?"

"Aye. His name is Brynjolf."

Ulfric cocked an eyebrow. "You married the leader of the Thieves Guild?"

"You know him?"

"I know _of_ him. I can't say I approve of your choice."

"I didn't ask for your approval."

Her comment stung, and his scent and the pained look in his eyes showed it.

He reached out and took her hand. "I'll go so you can rest, but I wanted to see...I wanted to make sure you were all right."

"He makes me happy, Ulfric."

"I would have made you queen."

"It's not the same thing."

Ulfric nodded his understanding and got up to go. "Should you need me, you know where I am."

"The same for you; that hasn't changed."

"You think that means we can talk him into sending our stuff to Riften like Falk did?" Brynjolf mumbled drowsily without opening his eyes.

"Probably not."

"What was that?" Ulfric asked.

Selene shook her head. "Don't worry about it. He's pretty strung out on pain potions."

"Be good to her, thief, or I will hear of it."

"With all due respect, my jarl, go fuck yourself."

Selene cringed. She couldn't imagine Ulfric putting up with such disrespect, especially from Brynjolf, but fortunately, he didn't react. He simply picked up her hand and kissed it. "Goodbye, my love."

"Goodbye, Ulfric."

"I will be good to you, you know," Brynjolf muttered when he was gone. "Bastard didn't have to threaten me, either."

Selene chuckled softly and closed her eyes.

* * *

After three days and nights of rest and healing, Selene and Brynjolf left for Whiterun to store their take from Bonestrewn Cave. They spent some time socializing with the Companions at Jorrvaskr and then stayed the night at Breezehome before heading out to Fort Blackmoor the next morning. The ruined fort was only a couple hours' ride from Whiterun, and they arrived just after noon. It was small as forts went, with one tower and not much else. Three burned-out houses stood between the fort and the road. The place was hopping when they arrived; they walked right into a fight between a bandit clan and several Stormcloak soldiers. They helped the soldiers out, and in a matter of minutes, the bandits were all dead. Unfortunately, so was one of the Stormcloaks. Selene studied the soldier's face, but she didn't know him.

"Go with Talos, brother," she whispered as his comrades picked up his body respectfully to carry him home.

"All that will have probably alerted anybody who's inside," said Brynjolf. "If there _is_ anybody."

"Most forts like this have a runoff or sewer entrance. Let's go around the side and see what we can find."

They tied the horses up inside one of the houses and searched the perimeter of the fort. They found the entrance they were looking for near the back, where a grate opened off of a small pond that was crawling with mudcrabs. They must have killed ten of them before climbing through the grate, only to come upon half a dozen more when they emerged inside. A slope led up to a shelf where a bedroll lay next to a warm fire.

"Perhaps we'll have living people instead of undead and machines," Selene mused.

The cave led to a cistern that was also overrun with vermin; this time it was skeevers. Selene cringed as she swung her sword at the creatures. When the skeevers were all dead, they followed a slope leading up to another grate, this one bearing the "danger" shadowmark. Brynjolf pulled the grate open, and they crawled through a short tunnel into a jail. The room was unoccupied, and the pair browsed through a handful of chests to find some gems and a couple hundred gold pieces.

They went up another slope and stepped over a tripwire to enter a barracks patrolled by five skeletons. The skeletons only lasted a few seconds. Each bed in the barracks had a chest at the foot, and though it was pretty evident they weren't going to find the bounty here that they had in the last two places, they did come out with several hundred gold pieces and some jewelry. The next hallway had a pressure plate and a swinging door bearing dozens of deadly spikes. The plate wasn't large or well hidden, and they stepped around it easily.

As they approached the next door, they heard voices. Selene stuck her head through the doorway and assessed the situation. It was a two-level room, and they were on the bottom level at the foot of a flight of stone stairs. Above were a few skeletons and a handful of mages, at least one of them with an image of a skull emblazoned on her robes.

"Necromancers," she whispered.

"Do you think they're Mercer's? Perhaps he was trying to find a way to live forever."

"Possibly. Or they could have just taken up residence here. It's been more than twenty-five years, after all."

"Either way, they have to go."

"Aye. I want to try to get up the stairs before they detect us, though. Fighting them all from down here is just going to get us killed."

"You want to go first, or shall I?"

"I'll go." She crept slowly through the door and started up the stairs, Brynjolf following close behind. She could only see one of the necromancers at the moment; the others had all moved away from this end of the room. Just as she was nearing the top level, though, one of them wandered onto the landing with a skeleton following him. Selene and Brynjolf froze until the mage moved past the stairs and stood at a table puttering with some ingredients. They stole the rest of the way up the stairs, and Selene snuck up behind the mage and slit his throat just as Brynjolf drove his sword through the skeleton's ribcage.

The necromancer choked and gagged as he perished, making enough noise to alert the others. A skeleton came tottering up another set of stairs while mages hurled spells at them. The dead mage at Selene's feet sparkled, got up, and started thrusting his dagger at her. She stabbed him again, and he fell into a pile of ash.

"You shouldn't have to kill somebody more than once!" she barked.

"Son of a—" Brynjolf cried as a firebolt connected with his back. Selene drew her bow and shot the necromancer, who was hurling flames at them from across the room. Bryn dashed across a small footbridge to fight another, while Selene aimed her bow and took out a third. When they were all dead, her husband walked back across the bridge to her.

"Are you hurt?" she asked him as she inspected his back. His armor was no more damaged than it had been before they had entered the fort.

"No, but I confess I had a brief moment of panic there."

The top level was actually two balconies above the main floor, which was blocked in the middle by toppled stonework. They got a few gold pieces off of the necromancers and a magical bow from a table, and two chests afforded some gold; but at this point, the loot didn't matter to Selene. She wanted to get through the place and find out if the fort's occupants just happened to be necromancers or if Mercer Frey really was trying to come back from the dead. She shuddered at the thought that someone might have gone into Irkngthand and retrieved Mercer's body from the flooded cavern, and that it was lying somewhere in Fort Blackmoor's tower, waiting to be reanimated—or had already been reanimated.

They entered the tower next, and as they ascended each level they killed more necromancers and skeletons, sustaining minor injuries and looting a moderate amount of gold and jewelry. In one of the rooms near the top, a necromancer worked near a throne, and another paged through a book next to a large bookcase. Brynjolf took the reader, and Selene sent an arrow into the back of the mage near the throne.

"What was that?" Mercer's voice called.

Selene's heart skipped a beat. No, it was not happening. They were not going to find Mercer's reanimated corpse in this tower!

"It's just another shade," Brynjolf assured her as though he could read her mind.

"I hope you're right."

At the top of the next flight of stairs, a pressure plate blocked the final tower door. Selene reached across the pressure plate and opened the door to find a lush bedroom containing the ubiquitous arcane enchanter, alchemy table, and bookcase. Selene whispered thanks to Nocturnal when they found that Brynjolf had been right and only Mercer's shade was present. He sat on the bed, looking forlornly at an amulet of Mara and diamond ring that sat on the nightstand. When he noticed them, he didn't attack; he simply stood up and faced them.

"Go ahead," he said, spreading his arms out to the sides. "I don't want to be here."

Brynjolf accommodated him, swinging his sword and sending the shade into a pool of ectoplasm.

All the loot they hadn't found in the rest of the fort was stored in this room. Two safes and a chest gave hundreds of gold pieces, handfuls of gems and jewelry, and another valuable bow. The shade carried a large sack of gold, a few gems, and yet another note.

Brynjolf opened the note and read, then closed his eyes and shook his head.

"Where are we going now?" Selene muttered sardonically.

"This is a letter from Maven, pointing us to a mine in The Rift, but I need a break."

"Let's go home, then."

* * *

Though the cistern looked pretty much the same as always, Selene and Brynjolf barely recognized the Ragged Flagon. Vekel had added some appointments to the tavern, including some decorative banners and rugs, better dishware, and even a round card table big enough to seat eight or ten people. Vipir, Rune, Thrynn, and Karliah sat at the table with tankards of mead, stacks of gold, and a deck of cards. Vipir's pile of coin was significantly larger than the others'.

"What's the game, my friends?" Brynjolf asked.

"Aces and eights," said Thrynn, "and Vipir's cheating."

"I'm not cheating! I'm just having a run of good luck, that's all."

Selene looked over her Vipir's shoulder at his cards. He had a full house—aces and eights. "Are you _sure_ you're not cheating?" She wrapped her arms around her childhood friend for a hug.

"As Nocturnal is my witness," he promised, throwing an arm around her waist. "And you know the best part? _He_ dealt me this hand, just as it is."

"Maybe Thrynn just needs to shuffle better."

Thrynn called for cards, and Karliah asked for two.

"One for me," said Rune.

Thrynn glared over at Vipir. "How many cards?"

"None. I'm good."

"Son of a bitch! I fold." He threw his cards down, and Rune and Karliah followed suit. Vipir gave a wicked laugh as he swept the pot over and added it to the pile in front of him.

Brynjolf placed a hand on Karliah's shoulder. "When you get some time, can we have a word?"

"Of course. Rune, deal me out of this one." She got up from her chair, squeezed Rune's hand and exchanged a meaningful look with him, and then followed Selene and Brynjolf out of the Flagon.

They went to Honeyside, where Selene poured wine for the three of them, and they sat down at the kitchen table. "You cut your hair," Karliah noticed.

"Not voluntarily. It got burned off in Bonestrewn Cave. We got caught in a pretty nasty fire trap."

"Sweet Nocturnal! Were you hurt?"

"Both of us, but nothing life threatening. Spent a couple of days with the healers in Windhelm."

"Aye, and I got to meet Selene's ex-lover," Brynjolf quipped.

"Hurling curses at him in an intoxicated state don't actually count as meeting, my love. Speaking of lovers, what was that I saw between you and Rune, Karliah?"

Selene didn't know centuries-old dark elves could blush.

"Nothing yet, not really. It's just a flirtation. But it feels good to have someone look at me that way again. I suppose I favor Imperials." She took a sip of her wine. "It's good to see you home. Things have been going extremely well here. The thieves have been busy, and coin is rolling in. Vipir wasn't joking when he said he was having a lucky streak, and it's not just with poker. He single-handedly pulled off a heist a fortnight ago that brought in ten thousand septims' worth of goods and coin. And we were astounded by the sheer volume of wealth you sent from Irknthamz."

"We brought quite a bit back with us, too, along with a clue as to where he might have stashed even more of it."

"It grates on me whenever I think too hard about it," Brynjolf grumbled. "We knew he had been stealing from the Guild for years, but we had no idea the extent of it."

"Fortunately, he had a penchant for gems, so there wasn't a lot of heavy equipment. What there was, we left there. We had enough to carry as it was." She exchanged a glance with Brynjolf, who nodded. "We found something else while we were there," she said pointedly.

"What's wrong?"

"Hopefully nothing, but we believe you've kept something important from us."

Karliah shook her head. "No, I've told you everything."

Brynjolf unfolded the note they had found in Bonestrewn Cave and handed it to her. "Are you sure about that?"

Karliah's eyes widened, and she gasped, not as if she had been caught in a lie but as though she remembered something that had slipped her mind.

"Mercer left shades behind," said Selene. "One of them had that note on him. The one at Fort Blackmoor was sitting next to an amulet of Mara and a wedding ring." She pulled the amulet and ring from her pocket and handed them to her.

The elf took the jewels, set the ring on the table, and traced her fingers over the amulet sentimentally. "I can't believe he kept it."

"So you're not surprised," Brynjolf guessed.

"No. I didn't keep this from you intentionally; we were just so focused on the events at hand, this slipped my mind. I had never dwelled on it too much to begin with. There wasn't anything between Mercer and myself, but I knew how he felt. I would catch him watching me, or he would tell me I looked beautiful, even when I was just wearing the Thieves Guild armor. We had a single, awkward kiss one rainy night when we were out on a job. Mercer was different then. He was creative, full of energy, even idealistic. But my interests lay elsewhere, and Mercer couldn't see that.

"We cleared a rival guild out of Fort Blackmoor, and Gallus was considering making it a secondary base for the Guild. Mercer spent quite a bit of time there, cleaning the place up, making contacts, preparing to hire thieves. One afternoon when he was in Riften, I found a note from Mercer on my bunk, asking me to go to the fort with him. There was no explanation, just the request. This note was my reply. He would only tell me it was a surprise. We were partners, fellow Nightingales, and trusted friends, so I didn't question him further. I simply told Gallus where we were going and followed Mercer to the fort.

"When we arrived, I was speechless. He had converted one of the tower rooms into an apartment and furnished it with me in mind. Books I liked were on the shelves; an alchemy lab was stocked with ingredients for my favorite potions; he had even invested in some incense I like—a very expensive blend from Elsweyr. He invited me to sit by the fireplace, and he poured a cup of fine wine from Morrowind for me to sip while he built a fire. He had spared no expense, put forth monumental effort, and everything was perfect."

"Mercer being romantic," Brynjolf mused. "I can't imagine that, and I even saw the room."

"It was actually very sweet—_he_ was very sweet. We sipped wine and chatted about mundane things, but the change in his manner was impossible to miss. Mercer was nervous, and I was beginning to understand why. After a couple of drinks, he went to a drawer and retrieved an amulet of Mara, which he placed around his neck. He knelt at my feet, professed his love, and asked me to be bound with him in marriage. He wanted to run the Fort Blackmoor branch with me at his side."

"Just out of the blue like that?" Selene asked.

"Well, it wasn't _entirely_ out of the blue. I knew he was attracted to me. But yes, the proposal was a surprise."

"You said no, I take it."

Karliah nodded. "By this time, I had already fallen for Gallus. We had been together for a few weeks, but Mercer didn't know about it because he had been away. Saying no was bad enough, but when he found out I had chosen Gallus over him, he was devastated. He jerked the amulet from his neck and threw it across the room, railing at me about leading him on. I didn't think I had led him on, but now I'm not so sure. I certainly didn't discourage him.

"He told me to leave, screamed at me to get out. I was reluctant to leave him, afraid he would do something to hurt himself, but he assured me that he liked himself too well to do anything like that. I returned to the Guild alone, and we didn't see him for nearly a month. When he came back, he was different. He was cold, bitter, and determined to put all his energy into gaining more wealth.

"A couple of years went by before Gallus started to suspect Mercer was stealing from the Guild. We got wind that he might be stashing some of what he stole in Snow-Veil Sanctum, and we followed him. You know what happened there."

"So Mercer turned sour, took the Skeleton Key, and stole from the Guild all those years because you rejected him?" Brynjolf asked incredulously.

"I've often blamed myself for his change. Had I chosen him over Gallus, perhaps he wouldn't have betrayed the Guild."

"I thought the Skeleton Key had corrupted him," Selene said.

"Perhaps it did. Perhaps it called to him from the Twilight Sepulcher. It does disappear from the Sepulcher from time to time. It's one reason we are committed to defending it. Sometimes I think it _wants_ to be stolen."

"But you can't blame yourself for Mercer. We're all responsible for our own actions, Karliah."

"Perhaps you're right, although it's hard to convince ourselves of that sometimes." She took a sip of wine and put on her best smile. "So. Are you off again to follow the next clue?"

Brynjolf shook his head. "Not just yet. I think it's time we get our house in order and take care of loose ends."

Selene chuckled. "I bet Maven never thought of herself as a loose end."

"Not to mention that our armor needs a lot of work. How does one repair Nightingale armor, exactly?"

"I did some research while you were away," Karliah mentioned, "and I believe I have a rough idea of a plan that will take Maven out of our lives forever and at the same time prevent our implication in her death."

The batted ideas back and forth for hours, and late into the night Selene sat back with a satisfied smile. They could do this.

"What's the best way to get over fear of the dark?" Farkas would say. "Be the scariest thing in it."

Until now, Selene and Brynjolf had both thought Maven was the scariest thing. But if they pulled this off, they would hold the record for scary.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	19. A Nightingale's Tale Epilogue

A Nightingale's Epilogue

Just Deserts

It was mid-afternoon when Karliah picked the lock of Black-Briar Manor's back door and slipped inside. Before she had come, she had wandered around town to locate all the family members and ensure the house was empty. Maven was in her office on the second floor of the Bee & Barb, and Ingun was working at Elgrim's Elixirs. Sibbi was still in jail, and Hemming was practicing swordplay in Mistveil Keep's training yard. Still, she was swift as she darted through the house to find Maven's desk. There was no desk to speak of, but she did find an end table with some of the mead magnate's personal stationery, ink, and a quill. She took a piece of the stationery and, in handwriting so like Maven's the forgery would never be detected, wrote the following:

Astrid,

It is past time to move forward with the plan to eliminate Jarl Laila Law-Giver and her family. Her housecarl and steward must die as well. This must go flawlessly if my plan to take my place as jarl and bring the Empire back to Riften is to succeed. I do not need to tell you there will be dire consequences if the assassination is not executed to perfection.

Maven Black-Briar

When she was finished, Karliah folded the letter, dripped candlewax on the fold, and used Maven's seal to close it all up. While she was at it, she took a couple of extra pieces of stationery to use later. She slipped out the back as silently and invisibly as she had gone in.

* * *

Selene crouched behind a rock, waiting. She was in beast form and the scents around her were tempting, but she did her best to remain focused. Her prey was already determined, and he was on his way. She could see him from here. Edmund Fleet-Foot, Maven Black-Briar's favorite courier, ran up the road toward her. Edmund was a singularly disgusting man who spent his free time partaking in every form of vice to be found in Tamriel. Haelg's perversions were nothing compared to this man's. Selene didn't shock or offend easily and was certainly no prude, but Edmund gave her the creeps. Whenever she spoke to him, she felt like she needed a bath afterward. She would have no trouble liberating Nirn from his contamination. When he reached the rock where she was hiding, she leapt out and menaced him, baring her fangs and snarling.

"Dear Stendarr, help me," he whispered as he pulled his dagger.

Without hesitation, Selene slashed him across the face and chest, basically ripping him to shreds. She didn't hunt often enough, and the scent of fresh blood was intoxicating. It was with monumental effort that she managed to step away from the corpse without feeding. She ducked behind the rock and shifted back to human form, quickly dressed, and pulled Karliah's forged letter from her pack. She placed the letter in Edmund's pouch, then knelt behind the rock again and waited.

It had taken quite a bit of doing, but they had managed to procure two schedules—that of Edmund and that of Lars, a courier Selene knew that ran for the Stormcloaks. They had compared the two itineraries, neither of which varied widely from week to week, and found a place and time where the two couriers passed in close proximity to each other. On this day, at this time, Lars ran on the same road about half an hour behind Edmund. Selene had tested the schedule two weeks in a row, and on this third week, she had executed the plan. As long as nobody else came along in the meantime, Lars should be along shortly and find Edmund. He would search the pouch and see the letter from Maven to Astrid and most likely read it. After that, it wasn't a stretch to expect him to take the letter to Ulfric for follow-up.

No one came by, and about twenty minutes after she had planted the letter, Lars came running up. Selene engaged her Shadowcloak and remained very still. He apparently knew Edmund because he spoke to him.

"Oi, Edmund, what got you, a sabre cat? Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy. Let's see what you were carrying. Anything interesting?" He searched Edmund's pouch and browsed through the few letters he had on him. "Well, well, look at this. Maven Black-Briar to Astrid. Hmm, Dark Brotherhood. That should be interesting reading for my lord." He stuffed the letter in his pocket and then took off in the direction from which he had come, back toward Windhelm.

Selene smiled with satisfaction and headed home to Riften.

* * *

Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak read the letter with interest, a large smile forming across his face. He had known for years that Maven sympathized with the Imperials, but she had never done anything he could actually use to bring her down. She had so much power that even he was reluctant to oppose her. But it appeared she had finally made a mistake.

"Where did you get this?" he asked Lars, who stood at the bottom of the dais, facing him.

"I came upon one of her favorite couriers, someone I knew, who apparently had been mauled by some animal. He had the letter on him."

Ulfric chuckled. "Luck favors us all. Come with me." He led Lars to his chambers, where he sat down at his desk and reached for a piece of stationery. He penned a quick note to Laila, placed it and Maven's letter in a large envelope, and closed it with his seal. "This goes from your hand to Jarl Laila's," he instructed Lars. "No one else touches it."

"Understood, my Jarl."

* * *

The Nightingales had discussed the matter of who would kill Maven and ultimately chose Brynjolf. He was closer to her than the rest and more likely to pay her a visit without a summons.

Although he didn't give them many details, Brynjolf had the thieves and some of his other contacts watch the routes into Riften with the directive to get word to him immediately when anybody suspicious or strange came into town. They were looking for a courier coming to the jarl, but they also couldn't discount the notion that someone might come to warn Maven. It was unlikely, but as sure as they neglected that minor contingency, it would come back to bite them on the arse. The plan was simple: if the courier went to Mistveil Keep, Anuriel would inform them if he brought a message from Ulfric Stormcloak. If he or she was heading to Black-Briar Manor, they would intercept and kill them. The timing had to be precise, or the plan would fail. Brynjolf had stopped manning his kiosk in the marketplace when the Guild started doing better, but he took his place among the merchants again so he could keep an eye on things from up top. Better to be as close to Maven as possible so that when he had to move, he would be ready. He just hoped Nocturnal would grant them the luck they needed to pull it off.

A week after Selene killed Edmund and planted the letter, a teenage boy Brynjolf had hired to watch the north road ran up to the stand. "Stormcloak courier coming this way," he informed Brynjolf.

Brynjolf handed the boy a small bag of coin. "Good work. Go back and let me know if you see anything else. I'll let you know when you can leave your post."

"Aye, sir."

Now, he just had to wait. If this was their man, Brynjolf would receive word from Unmid Snow-Shod shortly after the courier arrived and informed Anuriel he had a message from Ulfric. Having both the jarl's steward and housecarl in the Guild's pocket came in very handy. They didn't have details, only instructions to let Brynjolf know as quickly as possible if the jarl got any messages from Ulfric.

Brynjolf saw the Stormcloak sprint past the plaza and up the stairs to Mistveil Keep, and a few minutes later Unmid descended the same stairs and sauntered into the marketplace. He stepped up to Brynjolf's stand and said, "Courier just arrived with a letter from Ulfric Stormcloak for the jarl's hands only. Go and warn Maven; Anuriel will stall for as long as she can."

Maven was at home, so when Unmid went back up to the keep, Brynjolf started across the plaza to Black-Briar Manor with a small chuckle. Unmid had thought they were trying to help Maven. That little misconception could be very beneficial in case someone asked questions about why Brynjolf had visited Maven this afternoon. As he approached the house, though, a terrible thought crossed his mind. What if it was just your ordinary Stormcloak courier, and he wasn't even carrying anything about Maven? There could be anything in that letter. No. He couldn't think like that. Life wasn't that cruel.

When he reached the house, he steeled himself for the task at hand. He had killed before, of course, but in fights. This was cold-blooded murder, and though Selene hadn't had trouble killing Edmund, it was different for him. She was a warrior; he was far from it. He did what was necessary, but he didn't know if he'd ever get used to killing people. For the first time since they had begun to execute the plan, Brynjolf had doubts. What if he got there and couldn't go through with it? The letter from Ulfric would arrive, and Laila would question Maven and possibly arrest her. But Maven was too influential to stay locked away for long. She had hands in many pots, and one of those allies would either find a way to exonerate her or help her escape. And Maven wouldn't rest until she found out who had plotted against her and exacted her revenge. No. It couldn't get that far. Maven had to die, and she had to die today.

He knocked.

Maven opened the door and looked him over critically. "What are you doing here?"

"Just checking in. You know the Guild is back on its feet, but I thought you might like to see some numbers."

"Of course. Come in." She let him into the house and led him to the kitchen table. "I just made some tea. Would you like some?" One thing about Maven: she might be the biggest hard-arse on the face of Nirn, but when one was in her home, she was an excellent hostess.

"Aye, thanks."

He sat down as she went to the fireplace and poured tea for them. He reached into his pocket and fingered the tiny steel vial containing the jarrin root extract Karliah had made. Just having it in his pocket could incriminate him if he got caught. But he wouldn't get caught. The plan would work. It had to.

They chatted about the profits the Guild was making while they sipped their drinks. It was good tea, an expensive, imported blend, and Brynjolf briefly considered stealing the box when he left.

"I didn't realize the Guild was doing so well," Maven said as she finished her tea.

Brynjolf stared into her eyes and used Subterfuge to get into her head. "You should pour yourself another cup, Maven."

"I think I'll have another cup of tea. You?"

"I still have plenty, thanks."

Maven got up to retrieve the kettle. While her back was turned, Brynjolf took the opportunity to pour some of the poison into her almost-empty cup. He hoped it didn't change the flavor too much.

"We were able to get back much of what Mercer stole, and we've had a few good heists. It seems our luck has turned."

Maven scoffed and poured her tea, then sat down and took a sip. The flavor must not have been off because she didn't seem to notice any change. "You thieves and your luck."

"It's what gets us by, Maven."

Before long, Maven's second serving of tea was more than half gone. "What's next for you?" she asked, her words beginning to slur a bit.

"We're naming Selene Guild Master."

"Why not you? You should have the...the...oh, dear." She closed her eyes and swooned, then looked down at her cup. She glared up at Brynjolf. "You bastard. What have you done?"

"Justice, Maven," he replied icily.

She never got the chance to respond. Her eyes went blank, and she slumped over, her head crashing to the table.

Brynjolf felt for a pulse in her neck, and feeling none, he set to work. He placed the half-empty vial in her hand, then washed his cup, dried it, and put it away. He set his chair back as it had been before he had come in. Then for the final piece. He retrieved her quill and inkwell from her desk and placed it next to her on the table, along with a letter Karliah had forged that read:

I do not regret what I did. The Empire must come back to Skyrim, and Ulfric Stormcloak must be quashed. However, I will not rot in the dungeon of a barbarian who is more bear than man, and I refuse to give him the satisfaction of sending me to the executioner's block. I will die on my own terms.

Maven Black-Briar

He stood and looked at Maven's fresh corpse for a long time. Her skin was already turning gray, and her eyes started blankly into the Void. He still thought it best to check again for a pulse, so he placed a finger on her throat. No, she was very dead.

"Goodbye, Maven," he whispered. Then he left the house.

* * *

Lars stood before Jarl Laila-Lawgiver and gave a short bow. "A letter from Ulfric Stormcloak, my jarl, to be delivered into your hands only," he said. He handed her a rather large envelope, and she broke the seal, opened it, and read Ulfric's letter.

Jarl Laila,

This letter found its way to me. I have not verified its authenticity, but I felt you should be aware of it.

Yours,  
Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak

She pulled the letter from the envelope and perused it, a cold chill running down her spine. It was definitely Maven's handwriting and seal. As Jarl of Riften, especially when tensions were so high in the province, they always assumed her life was in danger. That was why she had a housecarl and guards. She was used to the possibility that someone might attempt an assassination, but the thought of being the target of Maven Black-Briar terrified her. The woman was certainly capable of having her killed. And the letter was to Astrid, reputed to be the leader of the Dark Brotherhood. Ulfric was right: she had to confirm the validity of the letter, but she could not just let this go. She would have to interrogate Maven.

"Unmid, take a man and bring me Maven Black-Briar. I have some questions for her."

"Aye, Jarl Laila."

* * *

Unmid Snow-Shod had seen a lot in his lifetime, so the sight of Maven Black-Briar sitting dead at her kitchen table barely made him blink. He despised the woman—everyone did, he supposed, except her children, and he wasn't so sure about them—so he certainly wasn't heartbroken about her demise. He was surprised, though. As he read the note lying on the table, he shook his head. "Didn't think she had it in her," he mused.

"Unmid," said Dolff, the guard who had accompanied him to Black-Briar Manor. "There's a vial in her hand."

Unmid took the vial and sniffed it. "Take it back to Wylandria. And be sure to warn her that it may be poison. She's so scatterbrained, she might take a taste before she realizes what she has. Still, she should be able to identify it. Let's have a look around the house."

Although Maven's corpse didn't give him pause, the tableau he found in a locked room in the basement did. A skeleton lay amid a circle of candles, along with a heart, skull, and what appeared to be human flesh. A dagger also lay on the floor next to a couple of blooms of nightshade and the book _A Kiss, Sweet Mother_. So far in his life he had been spared from seeing the profane Black Sacrament, and it would be a while before the image left his mind. "Sweet mother of Akatosh," he whispered.

Dolff handed him a note he had found just outside the circle of candles. It was to the Brotherhood from Maven, complaining that Astrid was not moving forward with the assassination as quickly as she should be. He stuffed the letter in his pocket and said, "I think we have enough. Let's go back to the Keep."

* * *

Laila read the second note and sighed. She had known Maven sympathized with the Imperials, but she had also thought the woman was her friend. How could she have been so stupid?

She looked over at Anuriel, who sat staring at her expectantly. "Go to Elgrim's Elixirs and bring Ingun to me. I need to tell her that her mother is dead."

"Understood, my jarl."

Anuriel got up and headed for the door, pausing briefly to exchange a glance with Unmid. The couple thought Laila didn't know they were together, but their affection for each other was hard to miss. Such a relationship was normally frowned upon, but the steward and housecarl seemed happy, and as long as they didn't let it interfere with their duties, Laila wouldn't put a stop to it.

"Is there anything else, my Jarl?" Unmid asked when Anuriel had gone.

Laila shook her head. "Not at the moment. I believe justice has been served."

* * *

Guards gossiped, and it didn't take long for news of what Unmid and Dolff had found in Black-Briar Manor to spread throughout Riften. The Black Sacrament in the basement was a complete surprise, but it only gave more validity to what they had done. Perhaps they _did_ thwart an attempt on Laila's life.

Selene stood in the circle in the center of the cistern surrounded by Brynjolf, Karliah, Delvin, and Vex. The rest of the Guild stood just a few feet away, watching the ceremony.

"I'm not good at this, so I'll make it short," her husband said. "When you arrived in the Flagon for the first time, the Thieves Guild was dying a slow death. Due in large part to your work, we're back on our feet and looking at prosperous times. Therefore, I propose that you be promoted to the position of Guild Master. Delvin, what say you?"

"Aye, I agree."

"Vex?"

The blonde Imperial shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

"Karliah?"

"I agree wholeheartedly."

"Then it's official. Selene Stormblade, I hereby name you Guild Master." He handed her a key and an amulet, which he had been wearing around his neck since she had met him. "This is the key to the tribute chest in front of your desk. The amulet is enchanted to enhance your speaking ability. Persuasion, bribes, buying and selling goods, all will be easier with the amulet. After we're finished here, see Tonilia, and she will give you your new armor. I know you probably won't wear it, but it's yours nonetheless."

"Thank you. Thank you all."

Brynjolf sighed, seemingly with relief. "That's it, then." As the group dispersed, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Congratulations."

"Thanks. I want you to keep the amulet, though. You're the con man, and I think it will benefit you more than me."

"How about if we share it? You do all the shopping, after all."

"All right."

"The thieves are gathering in the Flagon for a celebration. After that, boss, what will be your first executive action?"

"To forbid you to call me 'boss' ever again. I may be Guild Master, but you're my partner in every way. You don't put me on a pedestal as Dragonborn; don't do it for this."

"You've got it, boss."

She slapped his chest playfully. "You will pay; you know that."

"Are you gonna turn me over your knee?"

"I just might."

He chuckled softly. "I love you, wife."

"I love you too, husband." She stood on tiptoe and kissed him. "All right. Let's get this party started."

* * *

_This ends_ A Nightingale's Tale. _Look for _The Dragonborn's Tale,_ coming soon._

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


End file.
